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A  Gentleman  of  the  South 


I  think  it  is  I  who  have  gained  the  most,"  he  said  gravely. 

See  page  120. 


A  Gentleman  of  the  South 

A  MEMORY  OF  THE  BLACK  BELT 

FROM  THE  MANUSCRIPT  MEMOIRS 

OF  THE  LATE  COLONEL 

STANTON  ELMORE 


EDITED  WITHOUT  CHAftQE  ;  • ; 

By  William  Gamtt  Brown  , 


NEW  YORK 
THE  MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

LONDON:  MACHILLAN  &  CO.,  LTD. 
1903 


All  rights  reserved 


COPYRIGHT,  1903, 
BY  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 


Jup.'and  electrotyped  May,  1903. 


Norfoooti 

J.  8.  Gushing  &  Co —  Berwick  &  Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mass ,  U.S.A. 


of 


Who  questions  life's  denials,  let  him  dare 
Life's  gifts  to  question,  nor,  until  he  prove 

'Twas  nobly  answered,  take  his  answered  prayer. 
Life's  hireling  he  that  dares  not  question  love. 

And  I  who,  alien  lands  and  hearts  among, 

Too  well  have  learned  that  hungrier  still  goes  he 

Whom  careless  mercy  feeds,  —  I,  far  outflung 
From  trustful  boyhood's  sweet  security,  — 

Shall  I,  boy-hearted  still,  go  harking  back 

Unto  thy  shrine,  —  thy  glade,  thy  trees,  thy  stream,  — 

Coursing  the  sad  years  on  the  long,  white  track 
Of  that  pure  light,  light  of  my  boyhood's  dream, 

Whose  source  thy  radiance  was  ?     Forbear  to  try 
If  'twas  but  half-light,  lit  by  half-love  ?     Feign, 

Encompassed  by  a  silence  I  defy, 

To  hear  thy  soft,  remembered  speech  again  ? 

What  !     Man's  heart  lean  on  boy's  heart  to  the  last  ? 

Confess,  I  cannot  bear  my  cross  alone? 
I,  who  have  willed  cloakless  to  brave  the  blast, 

Creep  back  to  warm  me  at  a  cold  hearthstone  ? 

7 


8 


Yes,  to  thy  gentle  rule  once  more  I  bow. 

A  little' while,  let  man's  heart  boy's  heart  be. 
For  other  boy-love  death  denied  thee :  thou 

An  unspent  motherhood  still  gavest  me. 

And  I  will  half-believe,  a  little  while, 

Love,  mercy,  friendship,  never  have  been  less 

Than  thine,  —  believe  in  friendship  free  from  guile, 
True  love,  and  mercy  with  no  wantonness. 

And  it  shall  be  once  more  as  oft,  when  thou, 
At  eve  of  some  too  tropic  day,  hast  stood 

White-garmented  and  tranquil,  and  thy  brow 

Still  garland-crowned  with  thy  young  womanhood. 

And  I  who,  all  the  fiery,  irksome  day, 

Torn  with  boy-love,  boy-pride,  thy  love  had  fled, 
At  last  to  love  have  yielded,  —  thou  wouldst  lay 

Forgivingly  thy  hand  upon  my  head, 

And  forth  unto  thy  hill  we  two  would  pace, 
And  gaze  to  where  the  sunset's  burnished  gold 

Still  framed  for  thee  love's  hope,  for  me,  thy  face  — 
Till  night,  swift-rising,  wrapped  us  fold  on  fold. 


April 


PREFATORY  NOTE 

The  following  narrative  was  found  among  the 
papers  of  the  late  Colonel  Stanton  Elmore  soon 
after  his  death,  which  occurred  in  London  near 
the  end  of  the  last  century.  Colonel  Elmore  left 
this  country  immediately  after  the  downfall  of  the 
Southern  Confederacy,  and  did  not  return  until 
the  close  of  the  Franco-Prussian  war,  in  which 
he  had  served  on  the  staff  of  a  French  officer 
of  high  rank.  His  personal  memoirs  cover  his 
services  in  America,  in  Egypt,  and  on  the  conti 
nent  of  Europe,  beginning  with  the  first  Manassas 
and  ending  with  Sedan,  where  his  varied  military 
career  came  also  to  an  end. 

The  manuscript  now  given  to  the  public  has, 
apparently,  no  connection  with  the  body  of  the 
memoirs.  It  relates,  as  will  be  seen,  to  a  period 
preceding  his  enrolment  in  the  Confederate  army, 
and  to  events  in  which  he  was,  at  the  time,  too 


io  PREFATORY  NOTE 

young  to  have  any  part.  But  the  general  appear 
ance  of  the  manuscript  itself,  and  several  expres 
sions  in  the  narrative,  indicate  that  it  was  written 
during  the  latter  years  of  his  life,  which  were 
spent  partly  in  England  and  partly  in  the  great 
Eastern  cities  of  the  United  States. 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

"  I  think  it  is  I  who  have  gained  the  most,"  he 

said  gravely  (/>.  120)          .          .          .   Frontispiece 

"  I  think  you  do  well  to  cherish  it,"  said  the 

chairman         .....      page  137 


CHAPTER    I 


::  A  GENTLEMAN 

OF  THE  SOUTH 


CHAPTER   I 

T  is  now  more  than  fifty  years 
since  I  looked  on  Henry  Sel- 
den's  face ;  and  in  the  early 
spring  of  '65,  just  before  our 
lines  were  broken  at  Peters 
burg,  I  heard  that  The  Cedars  was  burned. 
Selden  and  The  Cedars  belong  to  the  other 
half  of  my  life,  cut  in  two,  as  it  was,  by  the 
great  war ;  to  a  world  so  completely  vanished 
that  I  sometimes  feel  as  if  I  never  lived  in  it 

15 


OF  THE  SOUTH 


save  in  dreams.  It  was  a  world  so  different 
from  the  present,  and  governed  by  such  differ 
ent  laws,  that  I  am  not  at  all  confident  of 
getting  any  reader's  credence  for  the  story  I 
wish  to  tell.  Many  will  doubtless  think  it 
impossible  that  men  should  within  this  cen 
tury  have  lived  such  lives,  obeyed  such  codes, 
set  themselves  such  standards.  Yet  the  story 
is  fixed  in  my  memory  more  firmly  than 
events  of  later  date  and  far  greater  moment. 
Selden's  gentle  presence,  the  look  he  wore 
when  he  stood  silent,  his  head  turned  side- 
wise,  is  oftener  in  my  mind  than  many  a 
martial  figure  with  whose  name  and  victories 
the  whole  world  is  long  since  familiar.  I  can 
close  my  eyes  and  see  The  Cedars  as  plainly 
as  I  can  see  the  slope  we  charged  over  at  the 
second  Manassas,  or  the  fire-crowned  Gettys 
burg  hills. 

A  good  time  to  see  The  Cedars  would  have 
been  that  Christmas  eve,  just  after  the  Mexican 
War,  in  which  old  Governor  Selden  had  lost 
his  life,  when  it  waited  for  young  Fitzhugh 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     17 

Selden,  his  second  son,  coming  home  on  his 
first  furlough  since  the  war  began,  and  for 
little  Beverley,  the  only  daughter  of  the 
house,  coming  home  from  her  first  absence 
in  Virginia.  In  the  early  darkness,  the  white 
pillars  of  the  mansion  stood  out  with  a 
fine  stateliness  against  the  gloom  of  the  trees 
which  gave  the  place  its  name,  and  far  down 
the  avenue  stretched  the  welcoming  lights 
from  the  great  hall,  reaching  out,  as  it  were, 
for  "the  children."  That  was  what  every 
body  at  The  Cedars  still  called  them,  although 
Fitzhugh  was  twenty-six,  and  brevetted  captain 
besides,  and  Beverley  would  be  eighteen  before 
the  Christmas  morning  dawned. 

They  were  coming  together,  for  Fitzhugh 
had  been  sent  to  Washington  with  the  colors 
when  the  city  of  Mexico  fell,  and  he  was  bring 
ing  his  sister  home  from  a  Virginian  boarding 
school.  Moreover,  they  were  bringing  with 
them  a  guest.  It  was  a  guest  whom  nobody 
had  ever  thought  to  see  at  The  Cedars ;  a 
guest  whose  coming  weighed  heavily  on  old 
Lewis,  as  he  stood  there  in  the  hall  listening 


1 8     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

for  the  sound  of  the  carriage  wheels.  He  kept 
shaking  his  head  forebodingly,  and  glancing 
now  and  then  at  two  portraits  on  the  wall. 
One  of  these  showed  him  the  face  of  his  old 
mistress,  who  had  died  in  giving  birth  to 
Beverley  just  eighteen  years  before.  The 
other  was  of  the  beautiful  young  girl  who, 
until  that  same  night,  had  been  betrothed  to 
Henry  Selden,  the  governor's  eldest  son.  She 
also  had  died  untimely  only  a  little  while  after 
the  portrait  was  made ;  and  the  story  was,  that 
she  had  died  of  a  broken  heart.  Once  or  twice, 
the  old  man  voiced  his  perplexity ;  for,  like  all 
his  race,  he  was  given  to  thinking  aloud.  "  I 
dunno  whut  Marse  Hinry  gwine  do/'  he 
muttered ;  and  then,  with  a  rising  sense  of  his 
helplessness  in  face  of  the  emergency,  "  I  dunno 
whut  he  is  gwine  do/' 

He  himself  had  done  his  best,  for  the  whole 
house,  notwithstanding  it  had  been  under  the 
shadow  of  mourning  ever  since  its  master  fell 
at  Monterey,  had  an  air  of  hospitality  and 
Christmas  from  the  wood  cellar,  stored  as  for 
arctic  rigors,  to  the  "  dark  room  "  at  the  top, 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     19 

where  lurked  surprises  for  every  pickaninny  on 
the  plantation  when  they  should  all  assemble 
the  next  morning  to  catch  their  masters  and 
mistresses  "  Chrismus  gif  V  Tena  also  came 
downstairs  feeling  that  she  had  done  her  best, 
and  she  showed  her  sense  of  duty  done 
by  the  tone  in  which  she  answered  Lewis's 
somewhat  petulant  inquiry,  whether  the  fire 
were  burning  in  Fitzhugh's  room. 

"  Co'se  hit's  burnin',"  she  said.  «  Dey's  all 
been  burnin'  ever  sence  sundown.  Ain't  it 
mos'  time  fer  de  chilluns  to  come  ? " 

Lewis's  ccuh-huh  "  was  not  the  gleeful  assent 
it  ought  to  have  been,  and  Tena  saw  that  there 
was  something  on  his  mind.  But  she  also 
knew  better  than  to  ask  him  what  it  was. 
Instead,  she  mildly  inquired  whether  Tom  or 
Willis  had  driven  the  carriage  to  meet  "the 
children." 

"  Willis  gone  wid  Marse  Hinry  to  meet 
Marse  Gov'nor  Burwell,"  he  grunted. 

But  Tena  went  on,  apparently  quite  unmind 
ful  of  his  mood. 

"  Huccome  you  say  Marse  Gov'nor  Burwell  ? 


20     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

Ain't  you  hyeahed  Marse  Hinry  tell  Miss 
Joanna  'bout  de  Legislachuh  done  neglected 
Marse  John  to  be  de  sinator  ?  He's  Marse 
Sinator  Burwell  now." 

Lewis  was  disdainful. 

"  He's  de  gov'nor  en    de  sinator." 

"  Go'  way !  "  said  Tena. 

"  He  is,  I  tells  you,"  said  Lewis,  the  slight 
upon  his  knowledge  of  politics  arousing  him 
into  some  warmth  of  contentiousness.  "  Don't 
you  know  dey  hes  to  be  de  gov'nor  'fo  '  dey  kin 
be  de  sinator  ?  Don't  you  ricollick  'bout  ole 
marster  ? " 

But  Tena  was  not  in  an  argumentative  mood. 
Still  mildly,  she  inquired  what  the  difference  was. 

"  DifFunce  ?  "  This  time,  it  was  a  positive 
snort  of  contempt.  Tena  had  some  ado  to 
keep  her  attitude  of  peaceful  inquisitiveness. 
"Diff'unce?  Dey's  all  de  diff'unce  in  de 
worl'.  When  ole  marster  wus  jes'  de  gov'nor, 
he  didn'  do  nothin'  'tall,  hardly,  let  'lone  drivin' 
roun'  to  de  bobbecues  in  de  kerridge,  en' 
shekin'  han's  wid  de  ladies,  en'  tekin'  a  drink 
with  de  gent'mens,  en'  mekin'  de  fus'  speech 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     21 

when  de  noratin'  begin ;  en*  dem  days,  he 
nuver  useter  talk  mo'n  a  half-hour  er  de  lak' 
o'  dat.  But  when  he  got  to  be  de  sinator, 
he  went  up  dyah  to  Washington  to  live,  en* 
he  nuver  open  his  mouth  at  de  speechifyin' 
widout  he  talked  a  whole  mornin'.  Leas'- 
ways " —  and  here  once  more  his  voice  lost 
its  hearty  contentiousness,  and  for  the  fiftieth 
time  his  eyes  were  wandering  helplessly  to  the 
portraits — "leas'-ways,  dat's  how  t'wus  tell  after 
he  kilt  Marse  Sinator  Underwood  in  dat  juel, 
en*  brek'  off  Marse  Hinry's  'gagement  wid 
Miss  Marg'ret,  'cause  she  Marse  Sinator  Un 
derwood's  step-daughter,  en'  her  ma  'ou'  n'  let 
'er  mah'y  Marse  Hinry  after  dat,  en'  de  news 
come  dat  night  en'  skeered  ole  mist'iss  to  death, 
'cause  our  little  Miss  Bev'ley  jes'  been  borned. 
En'  hit  eighteen  years  ago  dis  ve'y  night !  After 
dat,  ole  marster  ain'  mek'  no  mo'  long  speeches. 
'Feared  lak'  he  hate  to  open  his  mouth  'bout 
anything,  after  dat." 

There  was  a  tremor  in  his  voice  as  his  vigor 
ous  speech  came  to  this  rambling,  weak  con 
clusion.  Tena's  chance  had  come- 


22     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

"  I  ermembers,"  she  said ;  and  her  tone  was 
very  tender.  But  for  a  little  while  he  said 
nothing,  and  stood  looking  steadily  out  of  the 
doorway,  his  heavy  brows  contracted.  When 
he  began  again,  his  combativeness  was  quite 
gone. 

"  Tena,  you  know  who  'tis  comin'  home  wid 
Miss  Bev'ley  f'um  dat  bo'din'  school  in  Vir 
ginia  ?  Hit's  de  same  little  El'nor  Underwood 
whah  come  wid  de  fun'al  percession  when  dey 
bu'ied  Miss  Marg'ret  over  dyah  in  our  grave 
yard,  'cause  she  say  she  wan'  be  whar  Marse 
Hinry  kin  res'  by  her  side  when  he  die  too. 
Hit's  Miss  Marg'ret's  own  half-sister.  Hit's 
de  own  daughter  to  ole  Sinator  Underwood, 
whut  our  ole  marster  kilt  in  dat  juel.  En'  she 
comin'  here  dis  night,  en'  hit  Chrismus  eve. 
I  'clar,  I  gwine  'stracted  stud'in  'bout  it." 
His  voice  was  actually  breaking,  and  his 
whole  frame  was  trembling.  He  went  on 
plaintively  :  "  Huccome  Marse  Sinator  Under 
wood's  daughter  comin'  heah  to  de  Cedars  ? 
Is  anybody  ever  see  one  o'  dem  Underwood 
niggers  on  dis  plantation  sence  dat  day,  let 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     23 

'lone  de  white  fo'ks  ?  Ain't  Marse  Robert 
Underwood  tried  to  git  Marse  Hinry  to  fight 
him  a  juel,  en'  Marse  Hinry  cyarn'  do  it  'cause 
he  promus't  ole  mist'iss  dat  night,  when  she 
layin'  dyah  dyin',  dat  he  am'  nuver  gwine  fight 
no  juel  long  as  he  live  ?  Ain't  you  watched 
Marse  Hinry  en'  Miss  Joanna  sence  de  letter 
come  Pum  de  chilluns  in  Virginia  ?  I  tell  you, 
I  don'  comperhend  it.  I  don'  know  whut 
Marse  Hinry  gwine  do." 

With  a  quick  movement  Tena  turned  to  the 
old  man,  doubtless  to  word  the  sympathy  she 
surely  felt ;  but  at  that  moment  she  saw  Miss 
Joanna  coming  down  the  stairs.  Instantly, 
with  a  transition  possible  only  to  such  ser 
vants  as  the  old  regime  bred,  she  ceased  to 
be  Lewis's  fellow-councillor  in  his  earnest 
battling  with  the  situation  and  became,  in 
stead,  merely  the  submissive  retainer.  Her 
whispered  "  Heah  Miss  Joanna ! "  was  enough 
to  effect  a  like  change  in  him.  His  heaving 
breast  grew  still.  Only  a  practised  eye  could 
have  discerned  the  traces  of  perplexity  in  his 
face. 


24     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

But  Miss  Joanna's  eye  was  practised.  Un 
like  the  other  Seldens  as  she  was,  she  had 
lived  in  Selden  households  sixty  years,  and 
knew  their  ways ;  and  there  were  no  better 
Seldens  anywhere  than  the  Selden  negroes. 
To  be  a  Selden  or  a  servant  of  Seldens  was  to 
despise  all  outward  show  of  violent  emotion. 
Of  that  veiled  intensity  of  feeling  which  char 
acterized  the  others  of  her  family  Miss  Joanna 
was,  indeed,  supposed  to  be  destitute.  She 
could  be  grave,  but  not  severe  ;  sympathetic, 
but  not  enthusiastic ;  grieved,  but  not  angry. 
A  gentle  illumination  of  her  placid  features 
was  the  nearest  she  ever  came  to  laughing. 
She  wept,  indeed,  not  infrequently,  but  always 
mildly,  and  never  sobbed.  Her  place  in  the 
household  at  The  Cedars  in  old  Governor 
Selden's  time  was  aptly  described  by  Major 
Watkins,  when  some  one  remarked  that  Miss 
Joanna  was  very  unlike  her  brother. 

"  Why,  sir,"  said  the  major,  "  she  had  to  be 
unlike  him.  Gov'nor  Selden,  sir,  is  my  frien', 
but  I  feel  boun*  to  admit  that  under  provoca 
tion  he's  about  the  hardest  man  to  handle  I 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     2-5 

ever  saw.  You  can't  handle  him,  sir,  not  even 
if  you  are  a  woman  —  an'  Miss  Joanna  don't 
try.  The  woman  that  lives  at  The  Cedars  has 
got  to  put  up  with  the  fact  that  the  Selden  men 
can't  be  handled." 

Nevertheless,  Miss  Joanna's  placidity  was 
not  indifference,  and  it  was  not  ignorance  of 
stormier  tempers.  She  had  not  lived  all  her 
life  in  an  atmosphere  of  such  a  silently  electri 
cal  quality  without  learning  to  mark  the  signs 
of  perturbation.  A  glance  had  revealed  to  her 
the  unrest  of  Lewis's  spirit,  and  her  eyes  also 
turned  to  the  portraits  when  Tena  had  gone  for 
another  inspection  of  the  rooms.  She  sighed 
in  her  gentle  way  before  she  spoke. 

"  Well,  Lewis,"  she  said  kindly,  "  our 
babies  will  be  here  directly.  Only  to  think  of 
it !  Fitzhugh's  a  captain,  and  has  been  through 
a  whole  war  since  his  last  furlough.  And  Elea 
nor  Underwood  is  coming  to  The  Cedars  !  " 

"  Yes,  mist'iss,"  said  Lewis.  "  I  been 
stud'in'  'bout  it  all  dis  day." 

"  It  seems  so  strange  that  she  should  be 
willing  to  come,"  Miss  Joanna  went  on,  after 


26     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

a  pause ;  "  and  on  this  night,  of  all  nights  in 
the  year.  Lewis,  you  remember — Margaret?" 
"  Dat  I  does,  mist'iss,"  said  the  old  man, 
earnestly,  "  dat  I  does.  Don't  you  ricollick,  I 
wus  wid  Marse  Hinry  when  he  rid  over  to 
Hill  Top  dat  night  —  de  night  ole  mist'iss  died, 
en'  little  Miss  Bev'ley  wus  born  ?  Dat  wus  de 
las'  time  Marse  Hinry  uver  seed  Miss  Marg'ret 
in  her  life.  I  ain'  nuver  gwine  forgit  dat  night. 
I  knowed  sum'p'n  tumble  done  happen,  de 
minute  Major  Watkins  rid  up  to  de  do'  ;  en* 
when  Marse  Hinry  come  out  'n  ole  mist'iss' 
room  lookin'  lak'  he  clean  wo'  out,  en'  say  she 
dead,  en'  tell  me  to  git  de  horses,  I  ain'  even 
ax  'im  whar  we  gwine.  I  knowed  we  wus 
gwine  to  Hill  Top.  En'  when  I  looked 
into  de  hall  dyah  at  Hill  Top,  en'  seed  Miss 
Marg'ret  comin'  down  dem  styahs,  I  couldn' 
tell  which  de  paler,  she  er  Marse  Hinry.  I 
sez  to  myself:  c  D'  ain'  gwine  be  no  weddin' 
at  Hill  Top  dis  Chris'mus.  Hit's  mo'  likely 
dey's  gwine  be  a  fun'al.'  I  kin  see  Miss 
Marg'ret  dis  ve'y  minute  es  she  come  down 
dem  styahs,  wid  her  eyes  wide  open,  lookin' 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     27 

at  Marse  Hinry  lak'  she  beggin'  'im  not  to 
tell  'er  de  trut'.  En'  when  her  ma  come  in,  I 
could  heah  Marse  Hinry  pleadin'  wid  'er,  en' 
sayin'  dat  love  ought  to  be  stronger  dan  death. 
En'  den  Marse  Robert  Underwood,  he  come  in 
th'ough  de  side  do',  'en  Miss  Marg'ret's  ma 
say  sum'p'n  to  him,  en'  he  cross  de  hall  widout 
lookin'  at  Marse  Hinry,  en'  led  Miss  Marg'ret 
out  er  dyah.  En*  dis  heah  little  Miss  El'nor, — 
whah  wus  jes'  a  little  bitsy  thing  den,  holdin' 
on  to  Miss  Marg'ret's  dress,  —  she  stood  dyah 
'bout  a  minute  after  dey  all  lef',  lookin'  up 
in  Marse  Hinry's  face  ;  en'  den  she  bust  out 
cryin'  en'  runned  away.  En'  I  hed  to  lead 
Marse  Hinry  out'n  dat  house  jes'  lak'  he 
wus  a  bline  man." 

Miss  Joanna's  eyes  had  slowly  filled  with 
tears.  He  paused,  and  then,  glancing  with 
positive  terror  at  the  gentle  face  on  the  can 
vas  above  him,  and  dropping  his  voice  almost 
to  a  whisper,  he  added  :  — 

"  En',  mist'iss,  how  we  know  she  ain'  gwine 
look  lak'  Miss  Marg'ret  ?  I  know  she  jes'  Miss 
Marg'ret's  half-sister,  but  I  heah  tell  she  teck 


28     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

* 

after  her  ma's  people,  en*  don*  favor  dem  Un 
derwoods  at  all.  Ef  she  do  favor  Miss  Marg'ret, 
en*  her  voice  soun'  lak*  Miss  Marg'ret' s  voice, 
I  tell  you,  mist'iss,  'tain*  nobody  kin  say  whut 
Marse  Hinry  gwine  do." 

Miss  Joanna  made  no  response.  She  slowly 
dried  her  eyes  and  stood  gazing  into  the  fire 
until  a  noise  of  carriage  wheels  on  the  avenue 
roused  her  from  the  sad  revery  into  which  she 
had  fallen.  Meanwhile,  the  servants,  old  and 
young,  had  been  gathering  about  the  doorway, 
and  before  the  carriage  reached  the  steps  their 
cries  of  welcome  heralded  the  approach  of  "  the 
children."  Lewis  turned  to  the  door,  but 
Tena,  dashing  down  the  stairs,  was  too  quick 
for  him. 

"  Dyah  dey  is  ! "  she  cried.  "  Dyah  my 
chilluns  !  I  seen  'em  fus'  f 'um  de  pink  room 
winder ! " 

And  she  and  Lewis  ran  out  to  meet  the 
carriage.  Even  Miss  Joanna  started  some 
what  hurriedly  toward  the  door;  but  she 
calmed  herself,  and  stood  patiently  waiting 
until  Beverley  and  Fitzhugh  should  make  their 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     29 

way  through  the  grinning  servants  who  crowded 
so  thickly  about  the  carriage  that  Tom,  the 
driver,  for  all  his  fierce  scowls  and  shaking  of 
the  whip,  failed  to  bring  his  charges  to  the 
steps  with  the  proper  triumphant  swing. 


CHAPTER    II 


AJOR  WATKINS  was  wrong 
when  he  said  no  woman  fond  of 
having  her  own  way  could  find 
a  place  at  The  Cedars.  He 
should  have  waited  for  Beverley 
to  grow  up  before  he  generalized  so  sweepingly. 
She  was  a  baby  when  he  made  that  remark. 
Now,  on  her  eighteenth  birthday,  though  she 
was  still  so  absurdly  small  in  stature  that  no 
Selden  man  could  kiss  her  dear  little  lips  with 
out  bending  lower  than  Selden  men  liked  to, 
she  was  excellent  evidence  against  the  major's 
view.  The  major's  premises  were  Governor 
Selden's  wife  and  his  sister ;  but  Governor  Sel- 
den's  daughter  was  —  his  daughter.  When 
she  was  still  a  child  in  short  skirts,  she  went 
i>  33 


34     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

into  the  library  once,  when  the  governor  re 
fused  to  see  a  committee  from  the  legis 
lature,  come  to  reason  with  him  about  his 
stand  on  the  bank  question,  and  told  him 
the  committeemen  were  his  guests,  since  they 
were  at  The  Cedars,  and  brought  him  out  into 
the  hall  to  make  his  haughty  bow  and  say  a 
word  or  two  of  formal  courtesy.  And  when 
he  was  away  in  Washington,  it  was  she 
who  always  scolded  the  younger  house- 
servants  when  they  trifled,  and  she  also  who 
coaxed  Lewis  and  Tena  into  good  humor  when 
they  undertook  to  discipline  the  younger  set. 
She,  and  she  only,  could  look  into  her  brother 
Henry's  eyes — "  Brubber,"  she  always  called 
him  —  and  draw  them  from  the  ground,  even 
when  his  gravest  mood  came  on.  One  moon 
light  night,  she  went  alone  into  the  family 
burial-ground,  and  found  him  sitting  on  the 
stone  bench  there,  and  took  his  hand,  and 
led  him  back  into  the  house,  and  sat  reso 
lutely  at  his  feet,  looking  up  into  his  face, 
until  he  pushed  back  her  hair  and  kissed  her, 
with  that  slow  smile  of  his  which  was  more 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     35 

of  the  eyes  than  of  the  lips,  and  went  calmly 
to  his  books. 

"  Look  out,  Beverley  !  You'll  break  your 
neck/'  cried  Fitzhugh,  as  the  carriage  came  to 
a  stop.  But  the  little  lady  was  over  the  wheel 
and  in  Tena's  arms  before  the  warning  was 
finished.  The  next  instant,  she  had  bounded 
through  the  doorway,  and  Miss  Joanna  was 
gasping  in  her  embraces.  Releasing  her  aunt, 
she  went  dancing  about  the  hall. 

"  Oh,  goody  !  "  she  cried.  "  I  always  wanted 
to  go  away  somewhere,  so  I  could  come  home  to 
The  Cedars  on  Christmas  eve.  Hasn't  Brubber 
got  back  with  his  old  Governor  Burwell  yet  ? 
Uncle  Tom  told  us  he  had  gone  to  meet  him 
instead  of  coming  for  us." 

But  Miss  Joanna's  eyes  were  fixed  in  star 
tled  surprise  on  the  door,  where,  with  a 
grave  courtesy,  Fitzhugh  was  making  a  way 
for  a  tall,  slight  girl,  some  years  older  than 
Beverley,  whose  eyes,  gentle  and  beautiful, 
met  Miss  Joanna's  with  a  trustful,  almost  ap 
pealing  expression.  It  was  a  sweet  and  girlish 
face,  but  Miss  Joanna  had  lost  her  wonted 


36     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

composure  at  the  sight  of  it ;  for  face  and 
eyes  were  marvellously  like  the  portrait  on 
the  wall.  As  for  Lewis,  his  worst  fears  had 
come  true.  He  stood  staring  apathetically  at 
the  newcomer  until  Tena  caught  his  arm  and 
pointed  to  the  trunks.  As  he  stumbled  tow 
ard  them,  he  murmured  to  himself:  "  Name 
er  Gord,  she  do  favor  Miss  Marg'ret ! " 

Miss  Joanna,  recovering  quickly  from  her 
surprise,  greeted  her  nephew  lovingly,  and  ad 
vanced  to  the  stranger,  took  her  hand,  kissed 
her  forehead  gently,  and  led  her  to  the  fire. 

"You  are  welcome  to  The  Cedars,  my  dear," 
she  said.  "  You  are  strangely  like  your  sister 
Margaret,  whom  we  loved.  It  is  almost  as  if 
she  herself  had  come  back  to  us  out  of  the 
long  ago." 

"  You  could  give  me  no  sweeter  welcome," 
said  the  girl.  "  For  her  sake,  will  you  forgive 
me  for  coming,  and  for  bringing  back  —  the 
long  ago  ?  " 

Lewis  was  passing  with  a  trunk  on  his  shoul 
der.  At  the  sound  of  her  voice,  he  stumbled, 
and  the  trunk  fell  to  the  floor  with  a  bang. 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     37 

Tena,  outraged  at  his  clumsiness,  began  to 
upbraid  him;  but  he  only  groaned,  in  a  tone 
of  utter  despair,  "  En'  her  voice  Miss  Mar- 
g'ret's,  too ! " 

Miss  Joanna  kept  the  girl's  hand,  murmur 
ing  old-fashioned  phrases  of  welcome  and 
hospitality,  until  Beverley,  who  had  been  chat 
tering  with  the  servants  at  the  door,  took  pos 
session  of  her  guest  and  whirled  her  upstairs, 
shouting  over  the  banisters  that  she  was  to 
be  informed  the  minute  "  Brubber  "  returned. 
Miss  Joanna  sank  into  a  chair,  and  Fitzhugh, 
dismissing  the  servants,  came  and  stood  beside 
her  in  silence,  and  bent  and  kissed  her  fore 
head.  She  took  his  hand,  and  for  a  little 
while  neither  spoke. 

Finally,  he  asked  : cf  Are  you  displeased  with 
us,  Aunt  Joe,  for  bringing  Miss  Underwood  to 
The  Cedars  ?  She  and  Beverley  made  friends 
in  Virginia,  you  know,  and  for  months  they 
have  been  inseparable.  Will  it  be  very  hard 
on  Henry  ? " 

"  I  can't  tell,  my  dear.  You  know  how 
he  always  hides  his  feelings.  He  has  said 


38     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

nothing  since  the  letter  came,  but  I  fear  he 
has  been  much  —  disquieted." 

"  She  wishes  to  see  him  —  him  especially,  — 
for  some  reason  which  she  has  not  told  me ; 
but  she  will  leave  at  once  for  Hill  Top  if 
she  finds  that  her  presence  here  gives  him 
pain.  Mr.  Robert  Underwood  is  in  Wash 
ington,  but  she  isn't  afraid  to  stay  at  Hill 
Top  with  the  overseer's  family.  My  old 
room  ?  "  he  added,  turning  to  the  stairs. 

"Yes,  it's  just  as  you  left  it.  You  must 
all  dress  quickly,  and  have  something  to  eat. 
Supper  won't  be  served  until  ten.  There  are 
to  be  some  guests.  It  is  the  first  time  we 
have  had  a  party  at  The  Cedars  since  —  Mon 
terey." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  he  said,  gravely,  and  in 
silence  passed  up  the  stairs  to  his  room.  The 
old  lady  stood  looking  after  his  tall  young 
figure  for  a  moment,  and  then  came  back 
and  gazed  into  the  fire.  She  seemed  unaware 
of  Lewis  when  he  came  downstairs  and  again 
took  his  stand  at  the  door,  but  when  a  second 
carriage  was  heard  coming  up  the  avenue  she 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     39 

turned,  gave  him  a  look  of  sympathy,  and  left 
the  hall. 

Governor  Burwell's  voice  saluted  Lewis  with 
a  hearty  greeting  when  the  old  man  appeared 
at  the  door.  His  master  paused  a  moment  to 
inquire  whether  the  children  had  come,  and 
then  followed  the  governor  into  the  hall. 

I  have  often,  in  these  later  years,  tried  to 
analyze  the  charm  of  Selden's  face  and  manner, 
but  I  never  could  to  the  satisfaction  of  my  own 
memory.  How,  then,  shall  I  convey  it  to 
others  ?  His  beauty,  so  far  as  it  was  merely 
physical,  was  not  of  a  very  rare  type.  There 
are  many  tall  men  with  brown  hair  and  gray 
eyes,  and  in  our  old  Southern  society  a  stately 
and  gentle  bearing  was  not  rare.  But  of  all 
Southern  gentlemen  of  the  old  days  there  was 
only  one  who  ever  strongly  reminded  me  of 
Selden,  and  that  was  the  great  captain  of  our 
armies  in  the  long  war  between  the  states. 
The  chief,  however,  as  we,  his  followers,  best 
remember  him,  was  near  the  age  of  sixty,  and 
his  hair  was  whitening,  while  Selden,  at  the 
time  of  which  I  write,  could  not  have  been 


40     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

much  beyond  forty,  and  notwithstanding  the 
constant  gravity  of  his  manner,  the  subdued 
sadness  of  his  face,  there  was  about  him  always 
an  air  of  almost  boyish  sincerity,  not,  I  think, 
to  be  wholly  explained  by  the  purity  in  which 
he  lived.  Once  or  twice,  in  recent  years,  I 
have  seemed  to  find  in  the  eyes  of  certain  artists 
of  my  acquaintance  a  musing  light  somewhat 
akin  to  his  habitual  expression,  and  the  late 
Mr.  Edwin  Booth,  the  actor,  had  a  look  that 
strongly  reminded  me  of  him  —  not,  I  mean, 
in  any  of  the  characters  which  the  eminent 
tragedian  portrayed  on  the  stage,  but  when,  in 
his  own  proper  person,  one  encountered  him 
wandering  along  the  crowded  streets  of  our 
great  eastern  cities.  Indeed,  I  am  convinced 
that  the  bent  of  Selden's  mind  was  strongly 
artistic  and  poetical,  and  that  this  could  be 
made  to  explain  some  things  in  his  life  which 
puzzled  those  who  knew  him  best.  My  notion 
is,  that  the  love  of  beauty  was  always  a  ruling 
passion  in  him,  and  tended  to  keep  him 
separate  from  his  fellows,  for  the  spirit  of 
the  South  was  drawn  rather  to  politics  and  gov- 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     41 

ernment  and  war-making  than  to  the  study  of 
the  beautiful.  There  was,  however,  no  trace  in 
Selden's  face  or  manner  of  a  pathetic  weakness 
one  often  finds  in  men  of  the  artistic  bent. 
There  was  nothing  to  indicate  any  lack  of  the 
iron  strength  of  purpose  so  notable  in  the  men 
of  his  family,  and  particularly  in  his  distin 
guished  father.  It  was,  indeed,  a  face  in  which 
one  might  clearly  read  a  will  triumphant  over 
passion  and  caprice,  but  the  final  charm  of  it 
was  not  in  that,  nor  in  anything  I  can  put  into 
words.  Perhaps  what  I  am  going  to  relate  will 
help  the  reader  to  a  notion  of  it.  Save  Robert 
Underwood,  I  believe  no  man  or  woman  ever 
looked  into  his  eyes  without  an  impulse  to 
love  him.  Nay,  I  believe  even  Robert  him 
self,  poisoned  as  his  heart  was  with  bitter 
memories,  and  pride,. and  hate,  felt  the  com 
pelling  sweetness  of  the  man  he  hated,  though 
he  never  yielded  to  it,  and  in  the  end  it  only 
strengthened  his  hatred. 

Burwell,  bearded,  lively,  good-natured,  was 
a  good  foil  to  his  friend.  About  him  there 
was  little  to  suggest  the  artistic  or  the  spirit- 


42     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

ual.  A  frank,  manly  gentleman,  his  manner 
was  of  a  sort,  at  once  ornate  and  hearty, 
that  accorded  well  with  his  station  in  life  and 
his  successful  public  career.  In  those  days, 
political  eminence  in  the  Black  Belt  was  usually 
attained  through  personal  popularity,  and  the 
governor,  though  he  never  fawned  or  hid 
his  mind,  had  few  enemies.  Indeed,  in  that 
society,  caution  and  policy  and  intrigue  did 
not  carry  men  far  into  public  favor.  The 
people  had  too  acute  a  feeling  for  the  per 
sonalities  of  their  leaders.  They  liked  the 
governor  because  he  was  honest  and  manly 
and  a  gentleman,  and  that,  to  their  way  of 
looking  at  the  matter,  was  reason  enough 
why  they  should  honor  him  with  offices. 
He  on  his  part  loved  his  friends  and  hated 
his  enemies  for  their  own  sakes,  and  not 
for  the  help  or  hindrance  they  were  to  him. 
Selden  he  had  loved  from  boyhood,  with  a 
love  that  at  bottom  was  a  homage  to  a  finer 
clay  than  his  own ;  and  it  had  never  occurred 
to  him  that  his  own  eminence  in  public  life 
could  ever  make  him  Selden's  equal. 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     43 

The  two  gentlemen,  standing  before  the 
ample  fire,  were  good  to  see,  and  their  voices, 
as  they  talked  in  the  direct  and  simple  manner 
of  life-long  friendship,  were  good  to  hear. 

The  governor  was  going  on  with  some 
thing  he  had  begun  in  the  carriage,  and  he 
was  speaking  earnestly. 

"At  least,  Henry,"  he  was  saying,  "you 
won't  make  a  final  decision  until  you  have 
seen  Major  Watkins  and  his  committee.  They 
will  be  here  to-night,  and  I'm  relying  on  the 
major's  eloquence  to  convince  you  that  you 
ought  to  take  the  nomination.  I  have  set  my 
heart  on  it.  Ever  since  this  vacancy  in  the 
House  occurred,  following  so  soon  upon  my 
own  election  to  the  Senate,  I  have  been  bent 
on  having  you  in  Washington.  Half  the 
pleasure  of  my  own  victory  would  be  lost  if 
you  refused." 

But  Selden  was  smiling,  and  slowly  shaking 
his  head. 

"Of  course,"  he  said,  "I  shall  have  to  see 
Major  Watkins  and  the  committee.  But  if  I 
refuse  you,  John,  is  it  likely  I  shall  yield  to  any 


44     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

one  else  ?  I  wish  you  had  told  me  of  your 
plan  earlier,  before  you  had  built  upon  it.  It 
would  have  been  easier  for  me  to  tell  you  it 
was  in  vain.  I  a  congressman  !  Why,  it  would 
be  like  taking  old  Prince  out  of  the  pasture, 
where  he  has  been  grazing  and  philosophizing 
for  years,  and  entering  him  in  a  race  with  a 
field  of  eager  young  thoroughbreds.  Prince's 
racing  days  are  over,  and  mine,  too,  John." 

Burwell  laid  his  hand  affectionately  on  the 
other's  shoulder. 

"  Ah,  but  Prince  is  old,  and  you  are  not, 
Henry ;  and  Prince  has  won  many  races,  and 
you  —  you  have  never  run  at  all.  But  I  don't 
appeal  to  you  on  your  own  account — I  know 
how  much  effect  that  would  have.  I  admit  I 
am  perfectly  selfish  in  the  matter,  except  that 
I  consider  the  district  and  the  state :  and  the 
Lord  knows  the  whole  South  needs  every 
cool-headed  man  it  can  send  to  Washington. 
But  the  really  important  thing  is  —  me.  You 
know  I  have  never  taken  a  step  in  politics  with 
out  your  advice,  your  help.  What  am  I  going 
to  do  in  Washington  without  you  ? " 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     45 

A  knock  at  the  door  interrupted  them. 
The  two  gentlemen  turned  from  the  fire 
and  saw  a  tall,  awkward  youth  of  twenty, 
red-headed  and  bashful,  standing  in  the  open 
doorway.  He  had  evidently  knocked  in  order 
that  he  might  attract  their  attention  before  com 
ing  near  enough  to  overhear  their  conversation. 

"  Oh,  come  in,  Virginius,"  said  Selden ;  and 
the  boy  came  forward. 

"  Good  evenin',  Mr.  Selden,"  he  said. 
"  Fitz  an'  Miss  Bev'ley  come  home  yet,  sir  ?  " 

"  Here  at  last,  Virginius,  but  I  haven't  seen 
them  yet  myself.  You  know  Governor  Bur- 
well,  Mr.  Evins?" 

Virginius  awkwardly  transferred  an  enor 
mous  bouquet  from  his  right  hand  to  his  left, 
and  while  he  and  the  governor  were  shaking 
hands,  Fitzhugh,  his  toilet  finished,  appeared 
at  the  head  of  the  stairs. 

"  Henry  ! "  he  cried,  and  came  running  down 
to  greet  his  brother. 

"Why,  Captain!"  said  Selden;  and  they 
shook  hands,  and  looked  into  each  other's  eyes 
an  instant,  and  then  turned  to  their  guests. 


46     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

It  was  a  characteristic  Selden  greeting.  No 
one  ignorant  of  Selden  ways  would  have 
guessed  that  the  elder  brother  had  been  the 
younger' s  idol  from  childhood,  or  that  the 
elder  loved  the  younger  with  such  a  love  as  he 
might  have  given  not  to  a  brother  but  to  a 
son  ;  or  that,  since  they  were  last  together,  war 
and  death  had  come  into  their  lives.  Each, 
however,  had  felt  the  tremor  of  the  other's 
hand  and  seen  the  moisture  in  the  other's  eyes ; 
and  that  was  enough. 

"  Hail,  conquering  hero  !  "  cried  Governor 
Burwell,  gayly,  as  he  shook  hands  with  the 
young  officer. 

cc  He'o,  Fitz,"  said  Virginius,  as  his  turn 
came.  "  How  many  Mexicans  did  you  kill  ?  " 

"  Oh,  'bout  a  hundred  thousand,  'Ginius." 
Fitzhugh's  eyes  fell  on  the  huge  bouquet,  and 
twinkled.  "  Did  you  bring  that  boutonniere 
for  me?" 

Mr.  Evins  was  a  trifle  embarrassed. 

"Naw,"  he  said.  "Aunt  Anne  told  me  — 
I  mean,  /  brought  it  —  for  Miss  Beverley." 

"  Miss  Beverley,  eh  ?     Did  Miss  Anne  tell 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     47 

you  it  was  time  to  call  her  that  ?  Better  keep 
on  calling  her  c  Bev '  till  she  makes  you  quit." 

Fitzhugh  turned  again  to  his  brother,  who 
from  his  place  at  the  fireside  was  smilingly  sur 
veying  the  young  man's  soldierly  figure,  and 
the  governor,  with  ready  tact,  drew  Virginius 
into  conversation. 

"  Captain  Fitzhugh  Selden !  "  said  Selden, 
affectionately.  "  A  veteran  of  the  war  with 
Mexico,  sir ! " 

"  Ah,"  said  Fitzhugh,  "  I  can  hardly  realize 
that  it  is  two  years  since  I  was  here.  It  seems 
now  as  if  it  had  all  happened  in  a  few  weeks." 

"  And  —  Monterey  ?  "  Selden  had  grown 
grave  again. 

"  I  was  near  father  when  he  fell,  but  I  couldn't 
get  to  him  until  the  fight  was  over.  He  was 
still  conscious  when  I  reached  him.  I  couldn't 
write  and  tell  all  about  it  then  —  my  arm,  you 
know  —  and  I  didn't  like  to  let  any  one  else 
write.  His  last  message  was  for  you,  Henry." 

"  For  me  ?  " 

"  He  spoke  first  of  Beverley  and  me  and 
Aunt  Joanna,  and  told  me  he  had  put  into  his 


48     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

will  all  his  wishes  about  the  estate.  He  told 
me  to  take  his  sword  and  to  hang  it  up  there 
across  the  one  he  wore  in  the  old  war.  Then  he 
hesitated,  and  turned  his  head  away ;  but  finally 
he  said,  with  the  old  proud  manner  :  c  Tell  your 
brother  Henry  I  regret  that  many  years  ago,  in 
defence  of  my  honor,  I  was  compelled  to  take 
a  step  which  brought  unhappiness  to  him.  1 
would  have  made  him  amends,  but  I  never 
found  a  way/  ' 

Selden  did  not  speak  for  a  little  while.  He 
was  deeply  moved. 

"  Poor,  proud  father !  "  he  said  at  last ;  and 
they  both  glanced  at  the  portraits.  But  the 
next  instant  they  had  turned  courteously  to 
their  guests,  and  Fitzhugh  asked  Virginius  to 
come  with  him  for  a  look  at  the  horses  before 
the  ladies  should  come  down. 

"  All  right/'  said  Virginius.  "  Season's  been 
bully  so  far.  I  been  out  ev'y  good  mornin' 
since  the  first  o'  December,  'cept  the  day  after 
Uncle  Torm  died." 

Selden  was  inviting  the  governor  to  go  up 
stairs  and  change  his  coat  when  little  Miss  Bev- 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     49 

erley,  who  had  heard  the  voices,  peeped  over 
the  railing.  She  saw  Selden,  but  did  not  see 
the  governor. 

"  Brubber ! "  she  cried,  and  came  running 
eagerly  down  the  stairs,  her  hair  no  longer 
"  up,"  and  embraced  him  over  the  banisters. 
"  You  mean  thing,"  she  said,  "  to  go  off  for 
an  old  governor  instead  of  coming  to  meet  me. 
I  wanted  to  tell  you  about  Eleanor." 

The  governor,  with  an  obsequious  bow, 
stepped  forward  into  the  light. 

"  Good  evening,  Miss  Beverley,"  he  said  ; 
but  Miss  Beverley  made  a  hasty  exit  up  the 
stairs,  catching  at  her  hair. 

"By  George!"  said  Burwell,  "that  child 
will  be  a  young  lady  now  pretty  soon.  Til  go 
up  and  change  my  coat.  See  what  Miss  Joanna 
thinks  of  my  plan,  Henry.  I'm  going  to  set 
them  all  after  you." 

But  Selden  only  smiled,  and  went  back  to 
his  place  by  the  fire.  He  stood  there  silent 
for  a  long  time,  his  elbow  on  the  mantel. 

"  Thank  God,"  he  said  at  last,  "  I  was  able 
to  forgive  him  before  he  died." 


CHAPTER    III 


Y  this  time  the  hall  was  somewhat 
darkened.     Only  the  light  from 
the  huge  fireplace  fell  upon  the 
Christmas    greens,    the    hunting 
trophies,    the    swords    and    por 
traits  on  the  walls.     In  the  shadowy  region  at 
the  rear  Lewis  had  been  waiting  patiently  for 
an  opportunity  to  speak  to  his  master  alone, 
and  now  he  came  forward. 
"  Marse  Hinry." 
Selden  did  not  raise  his  head. 
"Well,  Lewis?" 

"  Marse  Hinry,"  said  the  old  man,  earnestly, 
"  is  you  seen  her  yit  ?  " 
Selden  looked  up. 
"  Seen  whom,  Lewis  ?  " 
53 


54     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

"  Miss  El'nor,  Marse  Hinry  —  Miss  Mar- 
g'ret's  sister.  Is  you  seen  her  yit  ?  " 

"  No,  not  yet."  Selden's  head  again 
drooped  forward  on  his  hand.  "  It's  like  old 
times  to-night,  Lewis." 

"  Yes,  Marse  Hinry,  hit  showly  is.  I  been 
stud'in'  'bout  it  all  day  —  'bout  dat  yuther 
Chris'mus  when  we  rid  over  to  Hill  Top." 

But  his  master  made  no  answer.  Lewis  drew 
back  again  into  the  shadows,  and  Selden,  think 
ing  he  had  left  the  hall,  drew  his  hands  over 
his  eyes,  and  sank  still  deeper  into  his  revery. 

"  Dat  yuther  Chris'mus  !  "  Was  there  a  day 
of  his  life,  these  eighteen  years  —  was  there  a 
waking  hour  —  when  he  had  once  forgotten  it  ? 
And  to-night,  for  all  the  quiet  days  and  nights 
between,  was  it  not  all  as  yesterday  ?  The 
long,  cold  ride ;  the  great  hall  at  Hill  Top, 
where  he  waited  until  she  should  come  and 
tell  him  his  fate ;  and  at  last  her  face,  sweet 
and  pale  and  trustful,  looking  down  upon  him, 
like  some  unhappy  angel's,  from  the  stairway 
where  she  stood  —  could  he  not  see  her  now 
as  he  saw  her  then  ?  Could  he  not  hear  the 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     55 

very  rustle  of  her  dress  upon  the  stairs,  her 
dear  voice  calling  his  name?  Such,  surely, 
must  have  been  the  current  of  his  thought,  for 
suddenly,  as  if  to  shake  off  a  dream,  he  turned 
with  a  convulsive  movement  toward  the  stairs, 
throwing  his  head  back  and  his  hand  aloft,  the 
lover's  pleading  in  his  eyes.  But  he  stopped 
like  one  transfixed,  his  eyes  distended,  his  hand 
still  in  the  air.  Lewis,  in  terror,  followed  the 
direction  of  his  gaze,  and  there,  halfway  down 
the  stairs,  the  likeness  to  the  dead  Margaret 
enhanced  by  her  attitude,  by  the  half  light, 
and  by  the  frightened  look  she  wore,  was 
Eleanor  Underwood.  The  terrified  old  negro 
glanced  beseechingly  from  her  to  Selden,  then 
crept  away  and  left  his  master  to  the  cruel 
agony  of  his  surprise. 

Eleanor  came  slowly  down  the  stairs.  Tim 
idly  she  approached  him  ;  but  he  did  not  move 
or  speak. 

"  Mr.  Henry  Selden  ?  "  she  asked. 

He  bowed  mechanically.  His  hand  sank 
slowly  to  his  side. 

"I  —  I  am  Eleanor    Underwood,"    she  fal- 


56     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

tered.  Still  speechless,  he  bowed  again,  and  the 
trembling  girl  went  on.  "  I  feared  it  would  pain 
you  to  see  me,  sir,  and  now  I  know  it  was 
wrong  to  come.  But  Beverley  urged  it  so,  and 
I  —  I  wished  to  see  you,  sir,  to  beg  a  favor  at 
your  hands." 

A  moment  more,  and  he  had  mastered  his 
emotion. 

"  Pray  forgive  my  rudeness,"  he  said.  "  I 
was  thinking  of — of  your  sister  Margaret 
—  when  you  came,  and  you  are  strangely  like 
her.  Only  an  old  bachelor's  memories,  you 
know,"  —  and  he  forced  his  white  lips  into  a 
smile.  "  You  are  very  welcome  at  The  Cedars, 
and  if  there  is  indeed  any  service  I  can  render 
you,  you  have  but  to  name  it.  c  Little  Eleanor  ! ' 
I  needn't  say,  c  Miss  Underwood/  need  I  ? " 

"  Oh,  no,  indeed,"  said  Eleanor,  brightening 
as  the  deathly  pallor  left  his  face. 

cc  And  you  remembered  me  ?  " 

"  How  could  I  forget  you,  sir  ?  Child  as 
I  was,  I  was  my  sister's  only  confidante,  and 
she  never  spoke  of  you  to  any  one  but  me 
after  —  that  night.  And  so,  somehow,  I  have 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     57 

grown  up  with  a  feeling  that  some  day  I 
should  know  you,  sir,  myself,  and  that  I  might 
come  to  you  for  help  if  I  were  ever  in  —  dis 
tress." 

"  Distress  ? " 

"  It  is  about  my  father,  sir." 

"  About  Senator  Underwood  ?  " 

"About  his  memory,  yes.*' 

"  Will  you  tell  me  what  it  is  ?  " 

"  Then  you  have  not  heard  of  this  measure 
which  Congress  is  threatening  to  pass  ? " 

But  he  merely  shook  his  head  and  looked 
at  her  inquiringly.  And  she  went  on,  encour 
aged  by  his  earnest  eyes,  to  tell  him  the  story. 

Long  before  she  was  born,  she  said,  and 
before  Hill  Top  was  built,  her  father  had 
been  commissioner  in  residence  among  the 
Indians,  who  still  inhabited  all  that  region 
about  Hill  Top  and  The  Cedars.  After  the 
final  treaty  with  them,  which  he  himself  had 
negotiated  with  Pushmataha,  the  famous  war 
chief,  he  had  brought  his  servants  from  Virginia 
and  become  a  cotton  planter.  He  had  built 
Hill  Top  on  a  tract  of  land  which  he  had 


58     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

bought  from  Pushmataha  ;  for  he  and  the  chief 
were  friends.  But  of  late  years,  Pushmataha 
being  long  since  dead,  the  Indians  had  begun  to 
claim  through  their  agents  at  Washington  that 
Senator  Underwood  defrauded  them  of  this  land 
while  he  was  a  commissioner  among  them.  A 
bill  had  been  introduced  to  give  them  repara 
tion,  and  in  the  preamble  Senator  Underwood's 
name  appeared.  It  was  there  declared  that  he 
defrauded  the  Indians  of  their  land. 

Selden  interrupted  her. 

"  But  your  brother,  Mr.  Robert  Underwood, 
knows  that  that  charge  is  false.  Surely  he  has 
the  means  to  prove  it." 

"  The  records  were  all  destroyed/'  she  said, 
"when  the  office  at  Hill  Top  was  burned, shortly 
after  my  father's  death.  Robert  has  many  ene 
mies  in  Congress  who  find  in  this  measure  an 
opportunity  to  bring  him  to  shame ;  and  some 
how,  the  Indians  themselves  seem  to  regard 
him  with  a  peculiar  hatred." 

Selden's  face  showed  a  sudden  intelligence. 
Eleanor  paused  and  looked  at  him  ;  but  he  re 
mained  silent,  and  she  went  on. 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     59 

"  I  had  heard  my  sister  Margaret  say  that 
you  loved  my  father,  sir,  and  that  you  and 
Robert,  when  you  were  boys,  often  went  with 
him  among  the  Indians,  and  that  you  were 
at  Hill  Top  the  last  time  Pushmataha  was  ever 
there.  And  so  —  and  so  I  thought  you  might 
know  something  of  this  charge,  and  be  willing 
to  help  us,  sir.  I  thought  that  perhaps  a 
word  from  you  to  some  of  the  leaders  at 
Washington  would  have  much  weight,  because 
it  is  so  well  known  that  your  father  —  that 
Governor  Selden  —  I  —  I  mean  —  about  the 
duel,  sir." 

She  had  gone  on  bravely,  but  now  she  fal 
tered,  and  was  on  the  point  of  weeping.  Sel 
den  hesitated ;  her  distress,  the  tremor  in  her 
voice,  the  tears  in  her  eyes,  were  hard  to  resist. 

"But  your  brother  Robert,"  he  asked, 
—  "  does  he  know  that  you  have  come  ?  Will 
he  accept  my  help  —  my  cooperation  —  even 
in  this?" 

Her  head  was  drooping. 

"  No,  sir,"  she  said,  "  he  does  not  know  that 
I  have  come.  He  is  very  proud.  I  fear  he  will 


60     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

never  forgive  me  for  coming.  I  had  indeed 
another  reason  for  coming,  but  —  but  I  cannot 
tell  you  what  it  was,  sir.  You,  too,  will  think 
strangely  of  me." 

He  hesitated  no  longer,  but  took  her  hand 
in  his,  as  though  she  were  still  a  little  child. 

"No,"  he  said,  "I  think  I  understand.  If 
your  coming  shall  enable  me  to  do  any  service  to 
your  dear  father's  memory,  it  is  I  who  shall  be 
the  debtor.  I  did  indeed  love  him,  and  owe  him 
a  long  debt  of  gratitude.  Perhaps  I  may  do 
something  even  now  to  make  amends  for  the 
cruel  wrong  that  was  done  to  him,  and  —  and 
—  to  others,  —  and  to  you  also,  my  dear,  when 
you  were  little  more  than  a  baby  in  your  cradle. 
Robert,  I  know,  cannot  see  me  or  think  of  me 
without  bitterness ;  but  surely  he  will  not  be 
angry  when  he  knows  my  mission  in  Washing 
ton.  I  swore  to  my  mother,  when  she  lay  dying 
in  yonder  chamber,  that  I  would  give  up  forever 
the  bloody  creed  which  had  been  taught  me 
from  my  childhood,  and  which  that  day  had 
brought  so  much  sorrow  into  all  our  lives. 
The  next  day,  Robert  tried  to  force  me  into  a 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     61 

duel,  and  I  bore  his  insult.  I  shall  not  be 
weaker  now.  Yes,  little  Eleanor,  I  will  go  to 
Washington  and  we  will  try  to  set  this  matter 
right."  He  smiled  at  the  end,  and  lifted  her 
hand  to  his  lips. 

They  were  standing  there  beneath  the  por 
traits  when  Beverley  and  the  governor  came 
downstairs  together,  the  governor  giving  the 
little  lady  his  hand  with  ceremonious  humility, 
and  she,  on  her  part,  assuming  much  state- 
liness  of  demeanor.  But  her  stateliness  van 
ished  before  she  reached  the  bottom.  She 
broke  from  the  governor  and  ran  to  Eleanor 
and  Selden. 

"  Why,  Eleanor,"  she  cried,  "  did  you  beat 
me  dressing?"  She  stopped  short,  and  looked 
quickly  from  one  to  the  other  of  their  faces. 
"This  is  B  rubber's  Governor  Burwell, Eleanor." 

When,  a  moment  later,  Miss  Joanna  came  in 
to  greet  the  governor,  Beverley  drew  Eleanor 
and  her  brother  away  to  traverse  the  other 
rooms.  Burwell,  left  alone  with  Miss  Joanna, 
lost  no  time  in  bringing  before  her  the  subject 
of  Selden's  nomination,  and  asked  her  to  urge 


62     A   GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

him  to  accept  it.  He  spoke  with  earnestness 
and  enthusiasm  of  the  career  that  still  awaited 
his  friend  if  he  could  be  persuaded  to  take  up 
the  interests  and  ambitions  which  in  his  youth 
he  had  begun  to  pursue.  The  state,  he  said, 
had  a  right  to  look  for  leadership  to  one  who, 
like  Governor  Selden's  son,  had  been  trained 
to  statecraft,  and  whose  abilities  and  character 
fitted  him  for  high  services. 

Miss  Joanna  listened  in  silence,  and  did  not 
seem  to  share  the  governor's  enthusiasm. 

"  I  will  speak  to  him  if  you  wish,  John," 
she  said,  "  but  I  can  scarcely  hope  that  he  will 
change  his  mind.  Indeed,  I  cannot  say  I 
really  wish  him  to  change  his  mind,  or  to 
change  his  way  of  life.  It  is  certainly  a  good 
and  beautiful  life  as  it  is,  John." 

"  For  that  matter,"  said  the  governor,  "  I 
agree  with  you,  you  know.  I  think  he  is 
the  very  best  man  in  the  world,  Miss  Joanna. 
But  is  that  a  good  reason  why  we  should 
keep  him  to  ourselves  ?  If  you  had  known 
his  wonderful  brilliancy  and  promise  at  the 
University  as  I  did,  if  you  had  watched  his 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     63 

first  beginnings  in  politics,  and  seen  his  won 
derful  ascendency  over  other  men,  you  would 
feel,  as  I  do,  that  we  have  no  right  to  keep 
him  to  ourselves.  It  is  not  merely  his  ability 
and  strength  of  character.  He  wins  men's 
love ;  he  has  no  enemies. " 

"You  forget  Robert  Underwood." 

"Yes,  I  suppose  Robert's  pride  will  not 
permit  him  to  be  friendly  with  any  of  your 
family,  and  he  has  been  jealous  of  Henry  all 
his  life.  He  was  the  only  man  at  the  Uni 
versity  who  did  not  accept  Henry's  superiority 
to  all  of  us  as  a  matter  of  course.  I  believe, 
too,  that  he  was  really  Henry's  rival  with  poor 
Margaret  Hilliard  —  she  was  only  Robert's 
step-sister,  you  know.  But  surely,  Henry 
need  fear  no  real  hindrance  from  him.  I 
don't  believe  even  the  Democrats  will  follow 
him  much  longer." 

"  Yes  ;  but  I  believe  it  was  mainly  to  avoid 
Robert  Underwood  that  Henry  first  withdrew 
himself  from  the  world." 

They  could  not  pursue  the  subject  farther, 
for  Selden  left  the  others  and  came  back  to 


64     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

join  them  ;  and  the  governor  soon  discovered 
that  some  powerful  influence  had  been  fighting 
his  battle  for  him.  He  had  not  bethought 
himself  of  securing  little  Beverley  for  an  ally, 
but  later  he  came  to  value  her  very  highly  in 
that  role. 

Selden  was  clearly  shaken  in  his  resolution. 

"  John,"  he  said,  "  I  have  learned  something 
to-night  which  makes  me  think  more  seriously 
of  the  committee's  offer.  It  is  only  the 
nomination  for  Kendall's  unexpired  term 
which  they  come  to  bring,  is  it  not  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Burwell,  "  but  you  would  have 
no  opposition  for  the  full  term,  I  am  sure." 

"You  misunderstand  me.  I  wish  to  know 
whether,  if  I  accepted,  I  should  be  under  any 
obligation  to  remain  in  Washington  longer 
than  March." 

"  No,  this  is  the  short  session." 

"  Then  tell  me  this,  John.  Do  you  think 
the  district  or  the  state  would  suffer  from 
incompetent  representation  during  the  re 
mainder  of  the  present  session  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Burwell,  smiling,  "  not  even  if 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     65 

the  representative  were  as  incompetent  as 
you  are.  He  would  be  a  new  man,  in  any 
case,  and  could  scarcely  hope  to  make  him 
self  felt  before  the  end  of  the  session,  as 
Congress  will  be  busy  with  the  appropriations. 
You  are  going  to  accept,  Henry?" 

But  Selden  would  not  yet  promise.  He 
must  see  the  committee  first,  he  said. 

The  reentrance  of  Fitzhugh  and  Virginius  and 
the  return  of  the  ladies  again  interrupted  them. 
Virginius  at  once  bore  down  on  Beverley  with 
his  bouquet.  He  was  flushed  and  awkward. 

"Good  ev'nin',  Miss  Bev'ley,"  he  said. 
She  had  started  to  meet  him  with  both  hands 
outstretched,  but  now  she  drew  back  with  an 
expression  of  mock  indignation. 

"Miss  Beverley?  But  I'm  not  eighteen 
yet.  I  don't  want  to  be  eighteen  until  after 
we've  danced  the  reel." 

Virginius  grinned,  and  looked  sheepish. 

"  He'o,  Bev,"  he  said. 

"He'o,  'Ginius,"  she  laughed,  and  they 
shook  hands  like  the  comrades  they  had  always 
been.  Virginius  held  out  the  flowers. 


66     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

"  Aunt  Anne  said  your  hair  would  be  up/' 
he  explained. 

She  made  a  funny  face,  and  held  the  great 
mass  of  flowers  against  her  little  head ;  where 
upon  the  governor  took  occasion  to  compli 
ment  Mr.  Evins  on  his  taste,  and  to  comment 
on  the  advantages  of  having  one's  hair  up. 
They  were  all  chattering  together  in  the  centre 
of  the  hall  when  Selden,  hearing  a  carriage, 
warned  them  that  they  must  run  away  to  the 
dining  room,  for  the  guests  would  be  coming 
soon.  He  himself  remained  to  see  the  com 
mittee,  for  it  proved  to  be  their  carriage. 

Major  Watkins,  entering  at  the  head  of  the 
committee,  seemed  to  hesitate  between  his  ordi 
nary  attitude  of  an  old-time  friend  to  the 
family  at  The  Cedars  and  the  more  stately 
demeanor  proper  to  the  leader  and  spokesman 
of  the  Whig  party  of  the  district.  He  greeted 
Selden  with  a  cordial  handshake  and  a  cheery 
"  How  are  you,  Hinry  ?  "  But  the  next  mo 
ment,  when  the  committee  had  finished  their 
greetings  and  were  seated,  and  Selden  stood  in 
his  habitual  posture  by  the  fireside,  awaiting 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     67 

the  formal  announcement  of  their  mission,  the 
major  drew  up  his  rotund  figure,  cleared  his 
throat  portentously,  and  looked  extremely 
solemn. 

"  Mr.  Selden,"  he  said  impressively,  "  you 
air  aware,  I  presume,  that  these  gentlemen  and 
I  have  waited  on  you  as  a  sub-committee  of 
the  Whig  committee  of  this  distric',  sir." 

"  Yes,  Major,"  said  Selden,  "  Governor 
Burwell  has  been  telling  me  of  the  committee's 


action." 


But  the  major  was  not  to  be  deprived  of  the 
function  of  announcement. 

"You  have  doubtless  received  informal 
notice  of  the  vote,  sir,  but  we  have  come  toe 
formally  —  er  —  inform  you  that  the  commit 
tee,  sir,  by  virtue  of  the  authority  conferred  on 
it  by  the  party  when  last  in  convention  assem 
bled,  has  unanimously  nomernated  you  for  the 
high  office  of  representative  in  the  Cong'ess  of 
the  United  States,  sir." 

Selden  did  not  smile. 

"  The  honor  is  most  unexpected,  Major,  and 
I  thank  the  committee  heartily.  But,  gentle- 


68     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

men,  you  know  I  have  had  no  part  in  public 
affairs  since  I  was  a  very  young  man.  Do  you 
think  it  safe  to  nominate  one  so  inexperienced 
—  a  mere  tyro,  in  fact  —  for  so  high  an 
office  ? " 

"  The  committee,  sir,"  said  the  major,  cc  has 
considered  the  matter  ca'mly  an*  deliberately. 
It  is  true,  sir,  that  you  have  preferred  the  life 
of  a  Southern  gentleman  on  yo'  elegant  planta 
tion  toe  the  arduous  cares  of  politics.  But, 
sir,  you  air  not  unknown.  There  is  no  part 
of  the  district  in  which  you  air  not  known  an' 
respected,  an'  I  may  say  loved."  He  turned 
to  the  committee  for  confirmation,  and  they 
vigorously  nodded  their  approval.  One  of 
them  remarked :  "  Yes,  Mr.  Selden,  you  know 
you've  got  land  in  eve'y  county  in  the  district 
but  one."  Another,  an  excitable  little  man,  a 
small  farmer  from  the  next  county,  broke  in  :  — 

"  Yes,  sir,  Mr.  Selden,  sir,  an'  there  ain't 
nary  farmer  within  ten  miles  o'  any  one  o'  yo' 
plantations  that  you  ain't  he'ped  out  er  some 
sort  er  werriment  er  yuther.  May  be  you've 
forgot  the  time  you  come  over  with  yo'  han's 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     69 

an'  ploughed  my  fiel'  when  me  an'  my  ole  lady 
wus  both  laid  up  with  chills  an'  fever,  but  / 
ain't  forgot  it.  There  was  six  men  on  that 
'ere  committee  that  up  an'  said  you  wus  the 
bes'  frien'  they  had  in  the  worl',  sir,  an'  they'd 
jes'  like  to  vote  fer  you  fer  President  of  the 
Newnited  States,  sir,  let  'lone  a  cong'essman." 

The  little  man  was  trembling  with  his  fervor. 
Selden  was  touched,  and  he  did  not  wait  for 
the  major,  who  was  clearing  his  throat  and 
waving  his  hand,  preparatory  to  resuming  his 
speech,  after  the  manner  of  a  debater  whose 
colleague  has  corroborated  his  statement. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Selden,  "  you  are  very 
kind  —  you  are  all  very  kind.  I  must  confess 
that  until  a  few  moments  ago  I  had  not 
meant  to  accept  your  offer,  for  I  am  long 
wedded  to  my  quiet  life  here  in  the  country. 
But  I  have  learned  to-night  that  perhaps,  in 
the  short  remainder  of  the  present  session  of 
Congress,  I  may  help  to  avert  a  grievous 
wrong  that  threatens  the  memory  of  an 
honest  man  who  once  served  the  state  faith 
fully,  and  whom  I  loved  and  honored.  I 


70     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

cannot,  indeed,  promise  to  take  any  part  in  the 
political  battles  of  the  day,  but  Governor  Bur- 
well  assures  me  that  Congress  will  be  mainly 
engaged  with  routine  measures  until  it  ad 
journs,  and  that  therefore  no  great  interest 
would  be  endangered  if  I  served  until  March. 
Is  this  your  mind,  also  ? " 

"  I  presume,  sir,"  said  the  major,  "  that  Gov 
ernor  Burwell  is  right ;  but  next  session  —  " 

"  But,"  said  Selden,  cc  the  nomination  you 
offer  is  only  for  the  remainder  of  the  present 
session,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir ;  a  convention  will  be  called  to 
nomernate  a  candidate  for  the  full  term." 

"  Then,  gentlemen,"  said  Selden,  slowly, 
and  looking  down  thoughtfully  at  the  floor, 
"  I  accept  your  nomination." 

The  major,  in  his  delight,  forgot  his  pose. 

"  Ah,  Hinry,"  he  exclaimed,  grasping  Selden's 
hand,  "  I  cert'n'y  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  it." 
But  he  instantly  recovered  himself;  he  had 
not  yet  made  his  speech.  So  he  drew  him 
self  up,  looked  around  rather  fiercely  at  the 
committee,  and  began  afresh. 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     71 

"  I  need  scahcely  say,  sir,  that  I  have  long 
regarded  with  impatience  —  I  may  say,  with 
vexation  —  yo'  indifference  toe  the  political 
questions  of  the  day.  Sir,  I  am  proud  to  say 
that  yo'  honored  father  was  my  friend,  an*  I 
have  no  doubt  that  you  inherit  a  goodly  share 
of  the  eloquence  an'  the  public  virtue  which 
distinguished  him  in  the  stations  toe  which  he 
was  successively  —  er  —  sublimated,  I  might 
say  —  on  the  shoulders  of  his  admiring  con 
stituents.  The  nomernation  of  the  Whig  party 
of  this  distric'  is,  as  you  air  doubtless  aware, 
equivalent  toe  an  election.  Thairefo',  on  be 
half  of  this  committee  "  —  turning  and  bowing 
to  the  committee,  who  in  turn  bowed  and 
looked  important  —  "  an'  of  the  brave  men  an' 
fair  women  of  this  sunny  an'  —  er — salubrious 
distric',  I  congratulate  you  befo'han'  on  yo' 
accession  toe  an  office  which  you  air  so  well 
fitted  toe  fill,  sir,  an'  toe  adorn." 

The  major  was  permitted  to  go  no  farther. 
His  tones,  growing  more  and  more  sonorous, 
had  penetrated  to  the  dining  room,  and  Gov 
ernor  Burwell,  napkin  in  hand,  came  running 
into  the  hall. 


72     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

"  Bravo  !  He  has  accepted  !  "  he  shouted 
back  to  the  others.  Beverley,  too,  ran  to  her 
brother  and  threw  her  arms  about  him. 

It  was  but  a  little  while  before  the  guests  of 
the  evening  had  begun  to  arrive,  and  the  hall 
was  ringing  with  merry  Christmas  greetings 
and  shouts  and  laughter.  Governor  Burwell 
was  earnest  in  his  congratulations  to  Major 
Watkins  on  the  eloquence  which,  he  assured 
him,  had  overcome  Selden's  repugnance  to 
public  life. 

"  Well,  Governor,"  said  the  major,  "  I  did 
the  best  I  could,  but  you  boys  don't  need  me 
any  longer.  I'm  gettin'  too  old,  an*  my 
throat's  too  rusty." 

"  Nonsense,  Major !  "  cried  the  governor. 
"  Here's  something  that  will  fix  your  throat 
trouble."  And  turning  to  the  servant  who 
was  entering  with  a  great  bowl  of  egg-nog,  he 
called  on  them  all  to  fill  their  glasses  and 
drink  the  health  of  "  Our  next  congressman, 
the  Honorable  Henry  Selden,  of  The  Cedars." 

Eleanor  had  been  watching  for  an  oppor 
tunity  to  speak  to  Selden  alone ;  but  the 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     73 

opportunity  did  not  come  until  they  were  all 
pairing  off  for  the  first  quadrille. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Selden,"  she  said,  "  is  it  for  my 
sake  you  have  done  this  ? " 

"  For  your  sake,  and  for  your  father's  sake, 
and  for  — -  for  the  old  times'  sake,  little 
Eleanor,"  he  said. 

"  I  know  how  hard  it  must  be  for  you  to 
give  up  your  beautiful  life  here  at  The  Cedars 
and  go  back  into  that  vulgar  world  at  Wash 
ington.  I  can  give  you  only  a  girl's  simple 
thanks,  sir,  but  I  know  that  she  would  thank 
you,  and  bless  you,  if  she  could  know." 

He  bowed,  and  turned  his  eyes  away.  The 
negro  musicians  had  made  ready,  and  Fitzhugh 
came  to  claim  her  for  the  dance.  Selden  kept 
his  place  by  the  fireside,  and  he  was  smiling. 
But  old  Lewis,  glancing  now  and  then  at  his 
master,  kept  shaking  his  head  and  muttering  to 
himself,  between  the  figures  he  was  calling : 
"  En  hit  Chris'mus  eve !  En  hit  Chris'mus 
eve  ! " 


CHAPTER    IV 


UT  during  the  fortnight  follow 
ing  Christmas,  while  Selden  was 
busied  with  the  election,  and 
then  with  the  preparations  for 
his  departure,  there  was  nothing 
in  his  manner  and  bearing  to  justify  old  Lewis's 
fear  that  some  change  might  come  over  his 
master.  Selden,  in  fact,  took  pains  to  assure 
his  neighbors  that  he  did  not  mean  to  go  per 
manently  into  public  life,  and  informed  the 
politicians  of  the  district  that  he  would  not 
remain  in  Washington  longer  than  March. 
Meanwhile,  his  life  at  The  Cedars  was  just  what 
it  had  been  for  eighteen  years. 

During  all  those  years  he  had  really  been 
master  there,  for    his  father's   time   had  been 

77 


78     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

given  almost  wholly  to  politics.  When  the 
son  drew  back  on  the  threshold  of  the  career 
for  which  he  had  been  carefully  trained,  Gov 
ernor  Selden  —  he  was  called  by  that  title  even 
after  he  became  a  senator  —  had  relinquished 
to  him  the  management  of  the  estate,  and  had 
himself  shown  a  disposition  to  live  anywhere 
rather  than  at  The  Cedars.  In  consequence, 
the  two  had  met  but  seldom  after  the  death 
of  Selden's  mother,  and  their  intercourse 
had  been  characterized  by  formal  courtesy 
rather  than  any  show  of  affection.  True, 
they  had  never  quarrelled,  and  no  word  of 
reproach  from  the  son  or  of  self-defence 
from  the  father  had  ever  brought  to  the 
surface  the  bitter  memories  that  filled  the 
minds  of  both.  Doubtless,  both  felt  that  it 
was  best  for  them  to  live  apart,  and  not  even 
little  Beverley  had  ever  succeeded  in  drawing 
them  together.  Never  jovial  or  companion 
able,  Governor  Selden,  in  his  later  years, 
seemed  to  have  lost  interest  in  everything  but 
the  one  great  purpose  of  his  public  career. 
That  was  the  steadfast  assertion  of  the  dogma 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     79 

of  Southern  rights  ;  and  when,  in  the  war  with 
Mexico,  he  found  an  opportunity  to  give  his 
life  for  his  section  and  his  idea,  the  end  was 
doubtless  such  as  he  would  have  chosen.  He 
had  been  bred  to  the  profession  of  arms,  and 
his  rugged  frame,  notwithstanding  his  years, 
was  easily  equal  to  the  fatigue  and  hardships  of 
the  brief  campaign  that  preceded  the  battle  in 
which  he  fell.  He  came  of  a  line  of  soldiers, 
and  it  seemed  altogether  fitting  that  the  word 
"  General  "  should  be  carved  on  his  gravestone 
along  with  the  civil  titles  he  had  won. 

Many  thought,  from  the  quiet,  unadven- 
turous  life  the  son  had  chosen,  that  in  him  the 
timid,  soft-eyed  mother,  and  not  the  iron 
father,  chiefly  survived.  Certainly,  for  that 
region  and  those  times,  and  for  a  man  of  his 
breeding,  the  choice  was  somewhat  strange. 
The  patriarchal  mode  of  life  which  grew  out 
of  slavery  had  given  to  the  society  of  the  South 
a  dignity  and  an  outward  show  of  stability 
characteristic  of  ancient  rather  than  extremely 
youthful  communities ;  but  the  Black  Belt  was 
still  a  very  raw  country,  with  many  things  to 


80     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

indicate  the  barbarism  from  which  it  had  been 
brought  so  quickly  by  masterful  men  into 
a  state  of  civilization  —  though  not,  indeed, 
entirely  modern  civilization.  For  miles  and 
miles  around  The  Cedars,  no  town  or  city 
broke  the  dull  monotony  of  forests  and  cotton 
fields.  Year  by  year,  as  the  wasteful  processes 
of  slavery  sapped  the  virtue  from  the  soil,  new 
fields  were  won  from  the  forests ;  but  still  no 
mill  or  factory  or  furnace  heralded  those 
mighty  and  complex  industrial  forces  that 
give  our  modern  life  its  essential  character. 
To  live  on  at  The  Cedars  meant  not  merely 
that  Selden  should  fail  to  take  his  place  among 
the  leaders  of  his  people  ;  it  meant  also  that 
he  should  never  be  caught  up  and  borne  along 
by  any  strong  current  of  human  life.  It 
meant  that  for  communion  with  his  spiritual 
fellows  he  must  go  to  books ;  that  for  worthy 
exercise  of  its  unusual  powers  his  mind  must 
fall  back  upon  the  big,  naked  problems  of  life. 
The  high  hopes,  the  brief  passion,  the  bitter 
sorrow  of  his  youth  must  stand  for  human 
experience  to  his  chastened  manhood. 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     81 

Yet  to  such  serenity  had  he  attained  that 
none  of  those  who  marvelled  at  his  choice  ever 
spoke  of  him  in  mere  pity.  The  settled  calm 
of  his  face,  the  peace  of  his  gray  eyes,  gave 
no  man  the  right  to  call  him  unhappy.  He 
showed,  in  fact,  no  signs  of  restlessness  in  his 
planter's  life,  but  lived  it  on  as  simply  as  though 
he  had  never  contemplated  any  other.  Only 
little  Beverley,  when  sometimes  she  came  upon 
him  unawares,  ever  tried  to  read  the  mystery  of 
his  straining  gaze  into  the  white  clouds  of  the 
breathless  summer  days  or  the  starlit  brilliancy 
of  the  Southern  skies  at  night.  The  little  crea 
ture  would  often  end  by  throwing  herself  upon 
his  breast  in  an  agony  of  helpless  sympathy. 

Always,  such  fits  of  hers  were  followed  by 
periods  of  what  in  her  corresponded  no  doubt 
to  the  thing  which  Tena  called  "  mannishness  " 
in  boys.  While  the  mood  lasted,  the  younger 
servants  were  made  thoroughly  aware  of 
her  place  at  The  Cedars,  and  her  playmate, 
Virginius  Evins,  led  a  vexed  and  mystified 
existence. 

As  for  Fitzhugh,  when  he  was  at  home  on 


82     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

his  rare  furloughs,  he  never  thought  to  ques 
tion  the  wisdom  or  the  Tightness  of  his  brother's 
life.  For  Selden's  image  had  always  been  the  first 
to  rise  before  his  mind's  eye  when  one  spoke 
of  "honor/'  or  "duty,"  or  a  "gentleman." 

Yet  many,  as  I  have  said,  set  it  down  to 
some  woman-softness  in  his  nature,  that  Selden 
had  lost  so  completely  the  impulse  which  carries 
strong  men  into  the  strife  and  battling  of  their 
time.  Old  Lewis,  however,  could  have  told 
them  better.  With  that  sure  sense  of  his 
master's  inner  quality  which  the  intimacy 
of  loving  service  gave  him,  he  knew  that  it 
was  not  so.  Only  once  in  these  eighteen  years 
had  he  seen  the  lion  in  his  master's  soul,  but 
that  once  was  enough.  It  was  when  Selden 
caught  the  overseer  of  the  lower  plantation  in 
the  act  of  beating  Simon's  Maria,  who  was  too 
weak  from  childbirth  to  take  her  place  among 
the  cotton  pickers.  After  that,  Lewis  never 
doubted  that  his  master,  whatever  his  life 
might  seem  to  show,  was  still  of  the  Selden 
temper. 

"  I  ain'  nuver  seed  Marse  Hinry  look  lak* 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     83 

ole  marster  tell  dat  minute/'  the  old  man 
confided  to  Tena.  "  He  tuck  er  holt  er  dat 
man  lak'  he  gwine  tyah  'im  lim'  f  'om  Km',  en* 
he  jes'  es  white  es  a  sheet.  Den  all  uv  er 
sudden  he  drap  'im  on  de  groun'  en'  tu'nned 
roun'  en'  clam  back  in  de  saddle  en'  rid  away 
wid  his  head  hangin'  down  on  his  breas'." 

Of  Eleanor  Underwood,  Selden  saw  but  little 
while  she  remained  at  The  Cedars.  They 
were  alone  together  still  less  often ;  but  when 
they  were  he  gave  no  signs  of  the  distress  which 
he  had  shown  at  her  first  appearance  there  and 
her  likeness  to  her  half-sister.  The  likeness  was 
indeed  remarkable,  for  Eleanor  was  the  daughter 
of  Senator  Underwood,  and  the  Underwood 
features,  as  they  survived  in  her  half-brother, 
Robert,  and  as  I  have  noted  them  in  her 
father's  portrait  at  the  State  House  —  I  never 
saw  the  senator  himself — were  very  unlike  her 
mother's  and  her  sister  Margaret's.  Robert, 
like  his  father,  was  dark,  thin-lipped,  almost 
Latin  in  appearance  and  manner.  Eleanor,  on 
the  contrary,  though  her  eyes  also  were  dark, 
was  rather  of  the  type  of  those  English 


84     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

women,  indefinably  changed  and  softened  with 
their  Virginian  environment,  whose  faces  one 
might  see  on  the  walls  of  the  older  man 
sions  along  the  Potomac  and  the  James 
until  those  pleasant  seats  were  desolated. 
In  character  no  less  than  looks  she  resembled 
her  sister  Margaret,  who  had  no  Underwood 
blood  in  her  veins. 

But  though  he  talked  little  with  Eleanor,  it 
was  clear  to  Selden  that  she  had  found  her  lot  a 
hard  one  when,  by  the  death  of  her  mother, 
she  and  Robert  were  left  to  work  out  their  lives 
together.  Chilled  and  frightened  by  his  stern 
way  of  silence  when  he  was  at  Hill  Top, 
and  left  too  much  alone  there  during  his 
long  absences  at  Washington,  she  had  gladly 
taken  refuge  with  her  kinsfolk  in  Virginia, 
where  much  of  her  girlhood  was  spent.  It 
was  there  that  she  came  to  know  Beverley, 
and  afterwards  Fitzhugh.  Perhaps  it  was 
because  she  had  been  so  little  at  Hill  Top, 
and  had  not  been  constantly  reminded  of  its 
neighbor,  The  Cedars,  that  she  could  at  last 
bring  herself  to  disregard  that  grim  loyalty 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     85 

to  ancient  grudges  which  was  so  unhappily 
characteristic  of  her  half-brother.  However, 
she  herself  had  confessed  to  Selden  that  she 
had  a  reason  for  coming  to  The  Cedars  which 
she  could  not  now  explain  to  him.  He,  on 
his  part,  bore  himself  after  the  fashion  of  one 
who  had  known  her  from  her  childhood,  leav 
ing  it  to  "  the  children  "  to  entertain  her. 

When  she  returned  to  Virginia,  Beverley 
accompanied  her.  Fitzhugh  rejoined  his  regi 
ment.  When  Selden  went  to  Washington, 
Beverley  forsook  her  boarding  school  and 
joined  him  there.  Miss  Joanna  also  went  with 
him,  and  for  the  first  time  The  Cedars  was 
left  to  the  care  of  an  overseer.  It  was  ar 
ranged  that  Eleanor,  too,  should  come  to 
Washington  if  it  were  found  that  her  pres 
ence  there  might  be  of  service.  As  yet, 
Robert  Underwood,  knew  nothing  of  her  visit 
to  The  Cedars,  or  of  the  true  reason  why  Sel 
den  was  coming  out  of  his  retirement.  The 
two  men  had  been  playmates  in  childhood 
and  classmates  at  the  University,  but  they 
had  not  met  in  eighteen  years.  Hill  Top  and 


86     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

The  Cedars,  though  in  different  counties,  were 
less  than  a  score  of  miles  apart ;  but  there 
were  graves  between  them. 

The  change  in  Selden's  life  was  not  a 
strange  thing  for  those  days  in  the  Black 
Belt.  To  pass  from  the  headship  of  a  great 
plantation  to  high  place  in  the  public  councils 
was  not  uncommon ;  and  Governor  Selden's 
long  career  made  it  seem  only  natural  that 
his  son  should  take  such  a  step.  But  when 
the  father's  old  associates  in  the  national  legis 
lature  offered  to  the  son  a  place  in  their  ranks, 
they  were  disappointed  to  find  in  him  so  little 
of  the  father's  spirit.  These  resolute  men, 
who  at  that  troubled  period  of  our  history  set 
their  faces  so  sternly  against  the  assailants  of 
Southern  institutions,  had  looked  to  find  in 
him  a  comrade  ready,  like  themselves,  to  go 
all  lengths  in  the  great  sectional  conflict  that 
was  now  apparently  nearing  its  crisis.  Of  that 
Spartan  band,  Robert  Underwood  was  one. 
But  Selden  never  enrolled  himself  among  them 
or  entered  at  all  into  the  bitter  controversies 
of  the  hour.  His  friend,  Senator  Burwell, 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     87 

tried  in  vain  to  draw  him  into  the  struggle. 
The  contemplative  bent  his  mind  had  taken 
from  his  quiet  way  of  life  at  The  Cedars,  from 
his  long  brooding  over  problems  vaster  than 
any  that  legislatures  ever  dealt  with,  never 
yielded  to  the  fascination  of  the  mighty  game 
that  was  playing  before  his  eyes. 

Therefore,  I  need  tell  no  more  of  his  life 
in  Washington  than  shall  serve  to  explain 
how  at  last  he  and  Robert  Underwood  were 
brought  face  to  face.  Often,  of  course,  they 
must  have  passed  each  other  by  in  the  corri 
dors  of  the  national  Capitol,  or  on  the  streets 
of  the  little  city,  —  the  curious,  village-like  little 
city,  so  typical,  with  its  wide  avenues  leading 
into  open  fields,  its  Grecian  columns  lending  a 
front  of  antiquity  to  edifices  yet  unfinished,  of  the 
young  republic  itself,  still  untried  of  the  ordeal 
which  should  first  give  to  its  wide-reaching  hope 
the  pause  of  realized  peril.  But  always  they 
passed  as  strangers.  Doubtless,  to  each  of 
them,  the  other's  presence  there  was  of  greater 
moment  than  any  of  the  momentous  happen 
ings  they  witnessed  ;  but  if  Robert  had  learned 


88     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

why  Selden  came,  he  gave  no  sign.  Even 
when  Selden  rose  in  the  House  and  defended 
Senator  Underwood's  memory,  Robert  main 
tained  his  cold  reserve. 

Meanwhile,  Governor  Burwell  had  been 
finding  little  Beverley  a  fast  ally  in  all  his  de 
vices  for  enmeshing  Selden  in  politics,  and  out 
of  their  many  conferences  and  conspiracies  there 
had  come  about  a  comical  understanding  be 
tween  the  big,  kind-hearted  man  and  the  clear- 
purposed  little  lady  who  had  set  herself  to 
manage  the  affairs  of  the  Selden  household, 
Major  Watkins's  dictum  to  the  contrary  not 
withstanding.  So  far  as  Selden  was  concerned, 
very  little  came  of  their  scheming,  for  appar 
ently  he  saw  through  their  elaborate  plans 
from  the  first.  Returning  to  his  lodgings  from 
one  of  the  numerous  conferences  of  Southern 
leaders  into  which,  on  one  pretext  or  another, 
Burwell  was  constantly  inveigling  him,  he 
would  glance  with  a  quiet  smile  into  the  corner 
where  they  two  sat  trying  to  look  unconcerned, 
and  they  would  know  that  he  had  again  refused 
to  commit  himself  to  any  participation  in  the 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     89 

struggle.  But  the  conspirators  themselves 
grew  more  and  more  absorbed  in  their  en 
terprise.  By  the  time  Eleanor  came,  Burwell 
had  indeed  given  up  all  hope  of  keeping 
Selden  in  Washington  after  the  business  that 
brought  him  there  should  be  finished ;  but 
Beverley  would  not  own  that  they  were  beaten. 

The  morning  before  Eleanor  came,  Burwell, 
who  had  called  for  Selden  on  his  way  to  the 
Capitol,  was  explaining  to  Miss  Joanna,  who 
could  never  understand  the  ways  of  Congress, 
the  crisis  that  had  made  it  seem  desirable  to 
summon  Eleanor  from  Virginia.  He  had 
found  the  old  lady  alone.  Beverley  was  gone 
to  walk  with  Selden. 

"  You  see,  Miss  Joanna/'  Burwell  was 
saying,  "it  all  depends  on  the  committee. 
Henry's  speech  —  and  I  wish  you  had  gone 
to  hear  that  speech,  Miss  Joanna ;  you  would 
have  forgiven  me  then  and  there  for  bring 
ing  him  to  Washington  —  Henry's  speech  so 
moved  the  House  that  it  struck  out  not 
only  the  clause  about  Senator  Underwood  but 
the  whole  appropriation.  The  bill,  as  thus 


90     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

amended,  has  gone  to  a  Senate  committee,  and 
the  chairman,  the  old  senator  from  South 
Carolina,  is  so  wrapped  up  in  bigger  ques 
tions  that  it  is  hard  to  get  him  interested.  I 
fear  the  old  man's  memory  is  failing  him,  but 
he  has  promised  a  hearing  to  Henry  and  Miss 
Underwood.  You  know  how  chivalrous  he 
always  has  been,  and  how  gentle  he  is  with 
women.  Henry  hopes  the  sight  of  her  may 
rouse  him  from  his  abstraction,  and  if  we  can 
get  him  interested  on  our  side  Gates  will 
never  be  able  to  control  the  committee/' 
"  And  Senator  Gates — why  is  he  against  us  ? " 
"  Oh,  Gates  is  one  of  the  men  with  whom 
Robert  Underwood  has  had  one  of  his  innumer 
able  ( misunderstandings/  Once,  when  Gates 
was  in  the  House,  he  boasted  that  he  was  a 
self-made  man,  and  ridiculed  Robert  and  some 
of  his  friends  as  aristocrats.  Robert,  in  reply, 
complimented  him  on  his  immunity  from  any 
suspicion  of  ancestors.  Gates  would  hardly  be 
human  if  he  did  not  find  satisfaction  in  a  public 
declaration  by  Congress  that  Robert's  own 
father,  a  Southerner  of  distinguished  family,  was 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     91 

a  dishonest  man.  He  and  Robert  are  about  as 
unlike  as  two  disagreeable  men  can  be,  and 
have  hated  each  other  cordially  for  years." 

"And  has  Robert  never  in  any  way  recog 
nized  Henry's  help  ? " 

"  Never.  That  man  has  the  pride  of  the 
very  devil  himself,  Miss  Joanna.  The  day 
Henry  spoke,  Robert  sat  reading  a  newspaper, 
apparently  the  only  indifferent  person  in  the 
house.  Naturally,  men  glanced  often  from 
Henry  to  him,  but  he  never  once  raised  his 
eyes  while  Henry  was  speaking.  I  believe 
he  would  sooner  have  seen  the  bill  pass,  pream 
ble  and  all,  than  have  had  it  defeated  —  as  in 
fact  it  was  —  by  Henry's  help." 

Miss  Joanna  sighed. 

"Poor  little  Eleanor!  I  think  she  had  a 
hope  that  this  might  bring  about  a  reconcili 
ation.  And  now  she  fears  that  Robert  will 
refuse  to  have  anything  to  do  with  her  unless 
she  gives  up  all  friendship  with  us.  I  cannot 
understand  such  men  as  Robert  —  or  such 
men  as  these  Indians.  Why  do  they  hate 
Robert  so  ?  His  father  was  their  best  friend. 


92     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

I  have  seen  dozens  of  them  camping  around 
Hill  Top  before  they  went  away  to  the  West." 

"  I  don't  understand  that  myself,"  said 
Burwell,  thoughtfully.  "  I  have  talked  with 
their  spokesmen,  and  it  is  clear  that  there  is 
something  besides  the  money  in  their  minds. 
The  other  afternoon,  Henry  and  I  were  walk 
ing  in  the  cemetery  here,  and  we  came  across 
a  group  of  them  standing  silent  and  motion 
less  around  Pushmataha's  grave  —  he  was 
buried  here,  you  remember.  They  glanced  at 
us  fiercely,  and  stalked  away.  Something  in 
Henry's  face  made  me  suspect  that  he  under 
stood,  but  he  never  has  explained  it  to  me. 
Can  you  not  guess  what  it  is,  Miss  Joanna? 
Did  you  ever  see  Pushmataha  ?  Did  you 
know  anything  of  his  life  ?  " 

"  Only  that  he  was  highly  honored  by  the 
white  men  who  knew  him.  It  was  he,  I  be 
lieve,  who  kept  the  Choctaws  friendly  when 
Tecumseh  stirred  up  the  Creeks  to  war.  But 
that  was  before  The  Cedars  was  built.  I 
have  heard,  though,  that  he  and  Mr.  Under 
wood  were  comrades  in  the  old  war,  and 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     93 

that  once  he  rescued  Mr.  Underwood  from 
great  danger.  I  know  he  was  at  Hill  Top 
not  long  before  he  came  to  Washington  and 
died.  I  did  not  see  him,  but  I  believe  Henry 
was  there  at  the  time." 

Burwell  shook  his  head. 

"  What  puzzles  me  is  that  the  chief  and 
Senator  Underwood  were  friends  until  Push- 
mataha's  death,  and  that  so  soon  afterwards  the 
Indians  came  to  hate  the  Underwoods,  and 
brought  this  charge  of  fraud  against  them. 
Well,"  he  added  with  a  smile,  "little  Miss 
Beverley  and  I  shall  have  to  put  our  heads 
together  and  find  out  what  the  matter  is.  By 
the  way,  I  haven't  seen  her  since  she  ran  away 
from  me  the  other  afternoon  at  the  President's 
levee  on  the  arm  of  that  young  comrade  of 
Fitzhugh's." 

Miss  Joanna  smiled  also. 

"  She  will  be  back  before  long.  Won't  you 
wait  and  see  her?" 

"  No,  thank  you,"  said  the  governor,  rising 
and  looking  at  his  watch.  "  I  have  a  commit 
tee  meeting  in  half  an  hour." 


CHAPTER  V 


UT  Governor  Burwell  seemed  to 
forget  about  his  committee  meet 
ing  when  he  turned  and  found 
Beverley  standing  in  the  door 
way.  He  asked  her  what  she 
had  done  with  Selden. 

"  Oh,"  she  said,  "  I  left  him  with  one  of 
your  old  senators.  He  wanted  Brubber  to 
talk  about  New  Mexico  and  abolitionists  and 
all  that,  and  he  chewed  tobacco,  and  behaved 
as  if  he  thought  I  were  about  twelve  years  old, 
and  I  came  away.  I  didn't  suppose  a  senator 
cared  to  have  children  about  when  he  was 
occupied  with  tobacco  and  affairs  of  state." 

Miss  Joanna  smiled  and  left  them.  Bur- 
well  put  on  a  look  of  grave  displeasure. 

H  97 


98     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  children  are  troublesome 
sometimes  —  especially  when  they  run  away 
from  their  escorts  with  handsome  young  army 
officers  and  have  to  be  hunted  for  all  over  the 
White  House." 

"  But  how  about  the  escorts  who  neglect 
their  charges  ? " 

"  Why,  the  President  himself  had  called  me 
aside  to  —  er  —  discuss  an  affair  of  state." 

"Very  likely  —  at  an  afternoon  levee. 
Well,  Captain  Armour  called  me  aside  to 
discuss  an  affair  of — " 

"The  heart?" 

"  Never  mind  what  it  was ;  but  it  wasn't 
territories,  or  provisos,  or  constitutional  rights, 
or  any  of  those  tiresome  things  Brubber  won't 
get  interested  in.  And  he  called  me  c  Miss 
Selden.' " 

"  Ah  ?  And  what,  pray,  did  you  expect 
him  to  call  you  ?  c  Bev,'  like  our  friend,  Mr. 
Virginius  Evins  ?  Shall  I  say  c  Miss  Selden/ 
too  ? " 

"  Yes ;  it  helps  me  to  stay  dignified.  I  keep 
forgetting  I'm  eighteen." 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     99 

"  But  it  isn't  necessary  to  be  dignified  all  the 
time,  you  know." 

"  I'm  afraid  it  is,  in  Washington.  All 
these  important  old  judges  and  senators  and 
things  make  me  feel  awfully  young,  and  I've 
got  to  assert  myself  somehow  if  I'm  going  to 
have  my  way  about  Brubber." 

"  Our  way,  please.  But  senators  aren't 
always  old.  There's  Senator  Sykes,  now." 

Beverley  made  a  wry  face. 

"  He's  worse.  He's  ugly,  and  he  chews 
tobacco  like  all  the  rest  of  them.  I  don't  be 
lieve  I  like  senators,  anyhow.  I  prefer  con 
gressmen,  like  Brubber." 

"And  handsome  young  army  officers,  like 
Captain  Armour,  and  red-headed  fox  hunters, 
like  Mr.  Virginius  Evins." 

Beverley  was   looking  out  of  the  window. 

"  Did  you  know,"  she  said  demurely,  "  that 
we  were  expecting  'Ginius  here  to-day?  It's 
the  very  first  time  he  ever  went  away  from 
home." 

"  Really  ? "  The  Senator  was  in  his  fa 
vorite  attitude,  his  back  to  the  fire,  his  head 


ioo     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

thrown  backward,  one  hand  on  his  beard  and 
the  other  on  the  lapel  of  his  coat.  "  I  won 
der,  now,  what  is  bringing  the  young  fellow 
away  from  his  horses  and  his  hounds.  No 
doubt  he  wishes  to  see  Miss  Joanna,  or  Henry, 
or  me,  perhaps.  Fine  young  man,  Mr.  Evins." 

Beverley  went  on  in  a  tone  of  the  utmost 
candor. 

"  He  is  the  very  best-hearted  boy  in  the 
world,  and  I  like  him  ever  so  much.  I  can 
remember  how  we  used  to  make  sleds  out 
of  barrel  staves  when  we  were  little,  and  slide 
down  hill  on  the  pine  straw  together." 

"  Ah  ?  And  did  he  always  say,  (  Miss 
Selden,  your  sled  awaits/  to  help  you  maintain 
your  dignity  of  deportment  on  the  way  down 
the  hill  ? " 

"  Oh,  there  was  no  need  of  being  dignified 
then.  There  weren't  any  senators  around,  and 
'Ginius  was  only  two  years  older  than  I  was." 

There  was  a  pause  before  the  governor 
spoke  again,  and  something  in  his  tone  made 
Miss  Beverley  look  quickly  over  her  shoulder 
at  him.  But  his  eyes  were  on  the  ceiling. 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THEVSOUT ft' ;  ;ii?r 

"  And  you  like  him  because  he  isn't  old  ?  " 
he  said. 

"I  —  I'm    not    afraid  of  him,  you  know." 

That  made  it  worse. 

"  But  you  aren't  afraid  of  mey  either ;  and 
I'm  a  United  States  senator,  and  six  months 
older  than  'Brubber.' " 

She    thought    she    saw   a   way   of    escape. 

"No,  I'm  not;  but  I  might  be  if — if  I 
didn't  know  you  love  Brubber  almost  as 
much  as  I  do.  That  makes  you  like  one  of 
us  —  like  home-folks  "  —  and  she  turned 
from  the  window  with  a  bewitching  little  air 
of  comradeship.  But  Burwell  still  studied 
the  ceiling  and  stroked  his  beard. 

"  Well,"  he  said  slowly,  "  I'm  glad  to  be 
like  home-folks  to  somebody  ;  I  haven't  any 
home-folks  myself,  you  know.  Nobody  on 
my  plantation  but  negroes  and  the  overseer 
and — dogs.  And  loving  c  Brubber'  is  the 
way  to  keep  you  from  being  afraid  of  me, 
is  it?" 

She  turned  back  to  the  window,  and  now 
there  was  a  little  tremor  in  her  voice  also. 


A: GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

"  I  don't  believe  I  ever  shall  like  anybody 
that  don't  love  Brubber,"  she  said ;  cc  and  I 
know  I  shall  never  love  anybody  else  as  I 
love  him." 

Burwell  stole  a  glance  at  her. 

"  Have  you  forgiven  me  yet  for  bringing  him 
to  meet  me  instead  of  you  last  Christmas  ? " 

cc  Oh,  yes  ;  long  ago.  You  see,  you  helped 
Eleanor  and  me  to  persuade  him  to  come  to 
Washington ;  and  Major  Watkins  said  you 
made  the  committee  nominate  him." 

cc  So  even  a  senator  is  useful  to  have  around 
sometimes  ?  " 

She  looked  up  mischievously. 

"  But  you  were  only  a  governor,  then." 

"And  a  month  or  two  younger,"  Burwell 
added,  reflectively.  "  What  should  I  have  to 
do  for  c  Brubber '  to  make  you  forgive  me  for 
being  old?" 

His  voice  was  dangerously  low,  but  Beverley 
was  off  her  guard  for  the  moment,  and  an 
swered  impulsively : 

"  If  you  would  take  away  the  look  that  comes 
into  his  eyes  when  he  thinks  nobody  sees  him, 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    103 

I'd  forgive  you  for  anything.  I  used  to  cry 
over  that  when  I  was  nothing  but  a  baby." 

Burwell  looked  at  her  again.  He  saw  that  her 
head  was  bent  over  so  that  her  forehead  rested 
against  the  pane.  There  was  a  quick  moisture 
in  his  eyes. 

"You  little  —  "  but  he  checked  himself. 
"  I  didn't  think  you  took  anything  so  se 
riously,"  he  said. 

She  laughed  a  curious  little  laugh,  and  threw 
back  her  head. 

"  I  don't  believe  I  do  take  anything  seriously 
except  Brubber,"  she  said;  and  again  she 
turned  to  him  with  a  smile  that  made  the 
governor  grip  his  lapel  tighter.  "  Not  senators, 
anyhow,"  she  added. 

Burwell  felt  himself  going. 

"  I  know  one  senator,"  he  said  very  gently, 
"who  would  be  content  to  be  taken  any  sort 
of  way,  if  only  he  might  be  taken." 

But  Beverley  turned  quickly  back  to  the 
window. 

"  I  know  a  senator  who  said  he  had  a  com 
mittee  meeting  in  half  an  hour,"  she  said. 


104    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

Burwell  instinctively  reached  for  his  watch  ; 
but  he  thrust  it  back  unopened. 

"The  committee  be  —  adjourned/'  he  said. 
And  now  he  bore  down  upon  her. 

"Beverley  —  " 

She  had  started  to  beat  a  retreat ;  but  Lewis 
came  to  her  rescue. 

"  Marse  Virginius  Evins ! "  he  shouted  from 
the  corridor ;  and  as  Virginius  entered,  she 
turned,  with  a  stifled  laugh,  to  greet  him. 

Mr.  Evins's  first  appearance  in  the  great 
world  had  evidently  struck  his  aunt,  Miss 
Anne  Evins,  as  something  of  an  occasion.  His 
apparel  so  proclaimed  it.  It  is  doubtful  if  he 
had  ever  before  submitted  to  so  much  dis 
comfort  from  clothes.  At  sight  of  his  friends, 
a  look  of  relief  spread  over  his  countenance, 
but  the  smile  of  greeting  was  not  one  of  his 
accomplishments. 

"  He'o,  Bev,"  he  said.  "  Mornin',  Gov'nor 
Burwell." 

The  senator  took  up  his  hat  and  came  for 
ward  to  shake  hands. 

"  Your  servant,  Mr.  Evins,"  he  said.    "  Glad 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    105 

to  see  you  in  Washington,  sir.  But  let  me 
give  you  a  warning.  It  isn't  c  Bev  '  up  here  ; 
it's  c  Miss  Selden.'  No  pine  straw  in  Wash 
ington,  you  know." 

"  Huh  ?  Pine  straw  ?  "  Mr.  Evins  looked 
slowly  around  the  room,  then  at  Beverley,  then 
at  the  governor.  "  No —  pine  —  straw  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir,  no  pine  straw.  Except  when 
engaged  in  the  agreeable  pastime  of  sliding  on 
pine  straw,  Miss  Beverley  finds  it  necessary 
to  be  dignified,  and  insists  on  being  addressed 
as  Miss  Selden.  Good  morning,  Miss  Sel 
den  "  —  and  he  sought  his  committee. 

Virginius  turned  to  Beverley,  and  grinned. 

"  You  been  slidin*  any  up  here,  sho'  'nough, 
Bev  ?  "  he  asked. 

Miss  Beverley  grew  emphatic. 

"  No,  you  goose.  I'm  grown  now,  and  so 
are  you.  And,  'Ginius,  you  mustnt  call  me 
'Bev'  before  people." 

Mr.  Evins  looked  a  trifle  injured. 

"  Why,  Bev  —  Beverley,  you  told  me  to 
say  c  Bev '  las'  Christmas,"  he  said. 

"  Yes,  but  I  wasn't  eighteen  then ;  and  now 


io6    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

I'm  grown,  I've  got  a  right  to  change  my 
mind,  like  other  women." 

Mr.  Evins  measured  the  little  figure  slowly 
with  his  eyes. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  you  haven't  grown  many 
yards  since  Chris'mas,  anyhow.  I  s'pose  we 
are  grown  fo'ks,  though,"  he  added.  "  But  I 
b'lieve  I'd  rather  we  weren't.  I  didn't  have 
to  wear  any  ole  collar  like  this  befo'  I  was 
grown,  an*  you  didn't  have  to  go  off  to  any  ole 
bo'din'  school."  He  looked  about  him  for  a 
chair,  and  sat  down  heavily.  "  Don't  you  wish 
we  could  have  a  few  more  slides  on  the  pine 
straw  befo'  we're  grown  up  for  good  ?  Don't 
you  remember  that  time  I  fell  off  my  sled  an* 
you  come  down  lickety-split  an'  took  me  back 
o'  the  head  an'  knocked  me  senseless  ? " 

"  But  you  wouldn't  like  me  to  do  that 
again,  would  you  ? " 

Virginius  chuckled. 

"  Well,  when  I  came  toe,  you  had  my  head 
in  yo'  lap  an'  —  an'  you  were  cryin'." 

"  I  wasnt  crying ;  and  that  was  ages  ago. 
I've  forgotten  all  about  it." 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    107 

"  Does  seem  like  a  long  time  ago." 

Now  it  was  Mr.  Evins's  tones  that  were 
growing  dangerously  sentimental,  and  he,  too, 
was  looking  at  the  ceiling.  Miss  Beverley 
was  having  something  of  a  forenoon. 

"  But  you've  forgot  how  I  used  to  drop 
cuckle-burrs  down  your  back,  and  the  day  I 
pushed  you  in  the  fish-pond." 

She  won  the  grin. 

"No,  I  haven't  forgot  it,"  he  said.  "Aunt 
Anne  got  out  the  carriage-whip  as  soon  as 
she  saw  me  comin'  over  the  hill  in  my  wet 
clo'es ;  an'  she  said  you  were  the  worst  child 
she  ever  saw,  an'  Miss  Joanna  ought  to  lock 
you  up  in  the  china  closet." 

"  She  did  lock  me  up  in  the  dark  room,  and 
I  found  a  jar  of  brandy  peaches  in  there,  and 
ate  so  many  they  made  me  right  silly." 

Virginius  chuckled  again,  but  after  a  little  his 
face  grew  preternaturally  grave,  and  he  heaved 
a  sigh.  He  wanted  to  talk  on  about  old  times, 
and  about  his  loneliness  now  that  The  Cedars 
was  deserted,  and  to  tell  how  he  didn't  seem  to 
care  about  hunting  as  he  used  to,  —  and  there 


io8    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

was  no  saying  how  he  might  have  ended. 
But  Miss  Beverley  had  had  quite  enough  of 
sentiment  that  morning,  and  called  Miss 
Joanna  to  greet  their  guest.  The  rest  of  the 
day,  she  kept  Virginius  busy  sight-seeing. 

That  night,  Eleanor  came  from  Virginia. 
She  had  written  to  Robert  Underwood  of  her 
visit  to  The  Cedars  and  of  why  Selden  was 
in  Washington.  But  Robert,  she  said,  had  re 
plied  with  a  cold  refusal  to  cooperate  in  any 
way  with  Selden.  Later,  as  if  he  had  mean 
while  been  brooding  over  the  matter,  he  had 
written  again,  commanding  her  to  make 
choice,  once  for  all,  between  her  new-found 
friends  and  himself.  To  that  letter  she  had 
not  yet  replied.  Now,  however,  she  thought 
it  best — and  so  did  Selden  —  to  let  Robert 
know  she  was  in  Washington,  and  why  she  had 
come.  And  so,  the  next  morning,  she  and 
Beverley,  sitting  together,  were  startled  by 
Lewis's  voice  from  the  corridor  announcing 
"  Marse  Robert  Underwood  to  see  Miss 
Eleanor."  Lewis  himself  looked  into  the 
room  with  a  scared  face,  and  Beverley,  glancing 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    109 

compassionately  at    Eleanor,  retreated  by   the 
other  door  as  Underwood  entered. 

Lewis  offered  to  take  Robert's  hat  and 
cloak,  but  Underwood  dismissed  him  with  an 
impatient  gesture  that  sent  him  out  of  the 
room  shaking  his  head  in  a  way  old  negro 
servants  use  to  express  a  sense  of  injury. 
Lewis  had  known  Robert  from  his  childhood. 
He  had  greeted  him  with  a  humble  "  Good 
mornin',  Marse  Robert,"  and  had  been  re 
warded  with  the  cold  announcement  that  Mr. 
Underwood  wished  to  see  his  sister.  The 
Selden  negroes  were  not  accustomed  to  such 
treatment  from  gentlefolk ;  yet  Lewis  knew 
that  Robert  Underwood  was  gently  bred.  So 
the  old  man,  when  he  went  back  to  his  post, 
prayed  in  his  heart  that  Selden  might  not 
return  until  Underwood  should  be  gone. 


CHAPTER    VI 


HE  pride  of  the  very  devil  him 
self!"  One  could  not  glance  at 
Robert  Underwood's  face  with 
out  feeling  that  the  governor  was 
right.  He  always  put  me  in  mind 
of  the  Spanish  king  who  let  himself  be  roasted 
rather  than  retreat  from  the  fire.  Tall  and 
rather  slender  in  stature,  he  seemed  to  look 
down  even  on  men  who  were  taller  than  him 
self.  His  whole  manner  and  bearing,  his  sensi 
tive  lips,  his  slight  hands  —  everything  about 
him  —  warned  you  that  he  held  himself  apart 
from  his  fellows  and  desired  no  close  com 
panionship  with  any.  There  were,  indeed, 
traces  of  dissipation  in  his  face,  but  one  would 
never  infer  conviviality  from  them.  "  Here," 
i  113 


ii4    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

one  said  to  one's  self,  "  is  the  sort  of  man  who 
would  ask  to  be  left  alone  if  he  felt  himself 
about  to  die." 

Eleanor  was  plainly  startled  when  he  en 
tered. 

"  Robert !  "  she  exclaimed  uncertainly,  and 
moved  forward  to  meet  him ;  but  he  did  not 
offer  even  to  take  her  hand. 

"Yes,  it  is  I,"  he  said,  quietly.  "You  did 
not  expect  to  see  me  among  your  new-found 
friends,  perhaps ;  but  I  have  so  far  violated 
my  own  self-respect  to  see  if  nothing  will 
arouse  yours.  I  have  come  to  offer  you  a  last 
opportunity  to  withdraw  from  the  position  you 
have  seen  fit  to  take." 

Eleanor  sank  dejectedly  into  her  chair,  and 
he  went  on,  standing  over  her,  and  forcing 
himself  to  speak  quietly. 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  be  harsh  with  you, 
Eleanor,  and  if  you  give  up  this  madness  I 
shall  never  remind  you  of  it  or  reproach  you 
with  it.  In  anything  else,  you  may  have  your 
way,  as  you  always  have  had  it ;  but  in  this 
matter,  in  which  the  honor  of  our  family  is 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    115 

involved,  I  have  a  right,  as  the  head  of  the 
family,  to  be  obeyed." 

Eleanor  smiled  wearily. 

"Honor!"  she  said. 

A  darker  look  came  into  Underwood's  face ; 
but  he  went  on  in  the  same  quiet  tone. 

"Yes,  honor.  I  can  hardly  wonder  that 
the  word  seems  meaningless  to  you,  since' you 
are  willing  to  make  friends  with  a  man  who  is 
so  dead  to  its  requirements  that  he  refuses  the 
satisfaction  one  gentleman  has  a  right  to  de 
mand  of  another.  But  while  you  are  known 
to  the  world  as  my  sister  I  must  insist  that 
you  respect  —  at  least  outwardly  —  the  re 
quirements,  not  of  honor  merely,  but  of  com 
mon  decency." 

"  And  is  it  inconsistent  with  the  honor  of 
our  family  to  accept  the  aid  of  a  man  who  can 
help  us  —  who  has  helped  us  —  to  save  our 
father's  memory  from  disgrace  ?  " 

"We  should  have  no  need  to  defend  our 
father's  memory  if  he  were  alive.  From  the  son 
of  the  man  who  first  slandered  him  and  then 
killed  him  we  can  accept  no  favors.  What 


u6    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

madness  could  have  induced  you  to  go  and  beg 
this  man's  help  in  his  own  home,  I  cannot 
imagine.  But  of  one  thing  you  must  be  sure ; 
and  I  say  it  not  hastily,  but  deliberately.  Un 
less  you  come  with  me  now,  and  free  me  from 
the  ignominy  of  your  association  with  these 
people,  we  must  part.  You  must  choose  to-day 
between  them  and  me.  The  estate  shall  be 
divided,  and  you  shall  have  your  share  at 
once. 

"  But  Mr.  Henry  Selden  is  not  guilty  of  his 
father's  sin,  Robert.  His  own  life  was  ruined  by 
it.  He  loved  our  father,  and  father  loved  him." 

"  Yes,  he  did  love  him,"  said  Underwood ; 
and  he  added,  in  a  lower  tone,  as  if  to  himself, 
"That  was  the  first  thing  he  ever  robbed  me 
of." 

But  Eleanor  heard  the  words.  She  raised 
her  eyes  to  his  face,  and  looked  at  him  in  silence, 
at  first  wonderingly,  then  in  a  great  surprise, 
and  then  with  a  dawning  tenderness  of  pity. 

"  The  first  ?  But  Margaret  was  not  your 
sister,  Robert.  Oh,  Robert !  Then  you  loved 
Margaret  ?  You,  too,  loved  her  ?  " 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    117 

For  an  instant,  Underwood's  face  was  dread 
ful  to  see.  His  whole  frame  trembled.  It  was 
some  moments  before  he  spoke  again  ;  but  when 
he  did  speak,  his  voice  was  merely  a  little  lower 
than  it  was  before. 

"  I  have  told  you  that  you  must  choose  be 
tween  your  new  friends  and  me — choose  to  live 
either  in  their  world  or  in  mine.  You  must 
choose  now,  Eleanor/' 

Eleanor  was  crying,  but  she  slowly  rose  and 
faced  him. 

"  Robert,' '  she  said,  "  I  have  tried  to  do  my 
duty,  tried  to  love  you,  but  you  have  never  cared 
for  me.  I  am  trying  to  do  my  duty  now.  You 
are  hard  and  cruel  when  you  make  me  choose 
between  it  and  you.  See  Mr.  Selden,  Robert. 
He  does  not  feel  toward  you  as  you  feel  toward 
him.  He  has  come  to  Washington  only  to 
help  you." 

"  To  help  me  !  " 

He  clenched  his  hands,  but  once  more  he 
mastered  himself  with  a  sudden  effort,  and 
came  back  to  her. 

"  Will    you  come  ?  "  he  said. 


n8    A  GENTLEMAN  OF'  THE  SOUTH 

"I  — I   cannot." 

"Very  well.'1 

He  turned  to  take  up  his  hat  and  coat,  and 
he  did  not  look  at  her  again. 

"  I  have  only  one  more  word  to  say  to  you. 
If  any  one,  hearing  your  name,  should  ask  if  you 
are  my  sister,  answer  no." 

He  was  moving  to  the  door  when  Selden, 
entering,  stopped  short  at  seeing  him  there. 
Both  turned  pale,  and  Selden  drew  aside  to  let 
the  other  pass.  Underwood  fixed  his  eyes  on  the 
quiet  face  before  him,  and  paused,  as  if  expect 
ing  Selden  to  address  him.  But  Selden  was 
silent,  and  the  other  walked  slowly  from  the 
room.  Eleanor,  who  had  been  standing  with 
clasped  hands  and  wide  open,  frightened  eyes, 
sank  into  a  chair  and  fell  into  a  passionate  sob 
bing. 

The  revelation  that  Robert,  in  that  far-off 
time,  out  of  which  nothing  but  sorrow  seemed 
to  come,  had  loved  his  gentle  step-sister,  and 
that  his  pride  had  keep  his  heart  closed  for 
so  many  years  to  any  healing  sympathy,  and 
that  she  herself  had  been  torturing  him  every 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    119 

time  she  spoke  of  Margaret  or  of  Selden,  had 
moved  her  deeply.  It  was  some  moments 
before  she  could  rise  and  dry  her  eyes  and 
turn  to  Selden,  who  was  waiting  in  pain  until 
she  should  recover  from  her  disorder. 

"  Robert  is  very  angry  because  you  came  to 
us  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Yes,  he  is  very  angry.  Oh,  Mr.  Selden, 
was  it  wrong  for  me  to  come  ?  It  does  seem 
so  bold,  so  unwomanly,  now  that  I  have 
done  it.  But  I  could  not  think  it  right  to 
live  on  always  in  such  slavery  to  that  dread 
ful  past.  And  then  —  and  then  —  there  was 
the  reason  which  I  dare  not  tell  you,  even  yet." 

"No,"  he  said,  "it  was  not  unwomanly, 
little  Eleanor.  It  is  because  we  men  are  only 
men,  without  the  truer  sense  of  right  and 
wrong,  the  mercy,  the  gentleness,  that  makes 
women  women  —  it  is  because  of  this  that  the 
world  is  so  full  of  passion  and  despair.  Our 
blind  pride  of  manhood  will  not  let  us  take 
the  path  to  happiness  that  your  women's  hearts 
know  how  to  find  and  are  brave  enough  to 
follow.  Robert  will  not  be  reconciled  ?  " 


120    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

"  He  has  forbidden  me  to  call  him  brother. 
He  will  sell  Hill  Top,  and  we  must  live  apart. 
But  pray,  pray  do  not  let  this  outcome  of  my 
visit  to  The  Cedars  make  you  unhappy,  Mr. 
Selden.  It  was  I  who  took  the  risk,  and  I 
knew  what  it  was." 

"And  you  will  not  end  by  hating  me  for 
bringing  this  estrangement  between  you  and 
Robert  ? " 

"  Do  not  think  me  capable  of  such  in 
justice.  Indeed,  I  do  not  believe  Robert 
ever  really  cared  for  me.  I  have  found  more 
tenderness  and  love  under  your  roof  than  I 
have  known  for  many  years.  I  have  gained 
more  than  I  have  lost,  whatever  the  future 
may  be." 

"  I  think  it  is  I  who  have  gained  the  most," 
he  said  gravely. 

She  looked  up  quickly. 

"  Then  you  are  glad  you  have  come  back  into 
the  world." 

"  I  have  learned,  at  least,  what  any  man  who 
lives  apart  from  his  fellows  is  in  danger  of 
forgetting  —  that  no  one  can  live  in  the  past 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    121 

without  sin  against  the  present  and  the  future. 
Until  you  came,  it  was  as  if  I  saw  only  the 
shining  of  the  distant  stars,  and  not  the 
nearer  lights  that  show  us  work  and  duty. 
You  have  brought  —  a  candle  to  an  astrologer 
on  his  turret,  little  Eleanor." 

"  But  that  other  light,  that  starlight  —  was  it 
not  sweeter,  finer  ? " 

Selden  looked  at  her  steadily  for  a  moment, 
a  curious  smile  on  his  lips  ;  then  he  dropped 
his  eyes. 

"  Perhaps,"  he  said,  "  my  eyes  are  no  longer 
fit  for  any  other.  At  any  rate,  when  this  task 
of  ours  is  over,  I  shall  climb  back  to  my 
turret." 

There  was  not  the  ordinary  sureness  in  his 
tone.  He  quickly  changed  the  subject  and 
began  to  tell  Eleanor  of  the  committee,  and  the 
audience  they  were  to  have  the  next  day.  He 
questioned  her  closely  as  to  her  knowledge 
of  her  father's  relations  with  the  famous  chief 
whose  heirs  and  descendants  were  now  trying 
to  bring  shame  upon  her  and  her  brother ;  but 
he  told  her  little  concerning  his  own  knowledge 


122    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

of  the  matter.  This  talk  led  back  to  Robert, 
and  the  hatred  which  the  Indians  evidently  felt 
for  him ;  but  of  that,  also,  he  gave  no  explana 
tion.  Eleanor,  mindful  of  the  discovery  she 
had  just  made,  spoke  with  unwonted  tender 
ness  of  Robert,  and  finally  she  asked  if  Selden 
and  he  had  ever  been  estranged  before  their 
families  were. 

"  No,"  he  said  ;  "  but  Robert  and  I,  though 
we  were  together  as  children  and  at  the  Uni 
versity,  never  seemed  to  understand  each  other 
very  well,  and  when  we  left  the  University  our 
lives  were  divided." 

"And  did  you  ever  think,"  she  asked 
timidly,  after  a  little  silence,  "that  Robert  cared 
for  Margaret?" 

Selden  turned  a  little  pale,  and  looked  at  her 
in  surprise.  He  hesitated  before  he  answered. 

"  I  thought  once  that  he  cared  for  her,"  he 
said.  "  But  I  am  sure  he  never  made  his  love 
known  to  her,"  he  added,  after  another  pause. 

But  Eleanor  was  equally  sure  that  she  had  not 
misunderstood  Robert's  bitter  smile  when  he 
said  that  his  father's  love  was  the  first  of  which 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    123 

Selden  had  robbed  him.  His  terrible  anger 
when  she  let  him  know  that  she  had  guessed 
his  secret  could  mean  nothing  else  than  that  he 
had  loved  Margaret  in  silence  while  she  lived, 
and  mourned  her  in  silence  after  her  death. 
The  pride  that  had  always  kept  him  silent 
Eleanor  could  not  understand,  perhaps  ;  but  to 
the  pity  of  it  she  was  alive.  Selden,  too,  was 
much  moved  when  he  learned  from  her  how 
Robert  had  betrayed  himself.  But  the  knowl 
edge  did  not  help  him  to  any  way  of  approach 
ing  Robert,  or  of  offering  him  the  sympathy  he 
had  all  his  life  so  sternly  avoided.  When 
Beverley  and  Virginius  came  in,  they  found  the 
two  fallen  into  silence ;  and  tears  were  still 
slowly  gathering  in  Eleanor's  eyes. 


CHAPTER    VII 


HE  pity  that  now  for  the  first  time 
.  «  •  stirred  in  Eleanor's  heart  for  the 
>  brother  whom  she  had  all  her  life 
failed  to  understand  was  for  the 
pain  of  unrequited  love  which  he 
had  borne  so  long  in  silence.  Only  one  who 
knew  Robert  Underwood  better  than  any 
woman  could,  would  know  what  cause  for  pity 
there  was  in  the  wound  she  herself  had  unwit 
tingly  inflicted  when  she  let  him  know  that  his 
secret  was  revealed  to  her.  To  be  misunder 
stood  might  be  hard  to  such  a  man,  as  to 
another ;  but  to  be  understood,  and  perhaps 
pitied,  was  infinitely  harder.  And  had  not 
Eleanor's  eyes  looked  into  his  very  heart  ? 
Might  not  Selden  come  to  know  ? 

127 


128    A   GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

On  the  plantations  of  the  South,  while 
slavery  endured,  there  were  types  of  men 
developed  such  as  neither  America  nor  any 
other  country  seems  any  longer  to  bring  forth. 
For  men  were  permitted  there,  as  now  they  sel 
dom  are,  any  where  in  Christendom,  to  go  on  and 
be  whatever  they  began  to  be  in  their  cradles. 
A  certain  sameness  is  bred  in  us  by  the  general 
uniformity  of  the  conditions  under  which  we 
live,  and  by  our  too  full  acquaintance  with  each 
other's  lives.  But  when  a  hundred  slaves  did 
the  bidding  of  one  master,  and  every  great 
plantation  was  a  principality,  a  little  despotism, 
there  were  Americans  subject  to  influences  now 
little  known  in  America  or  elsewhere.  The 
chief  of  these  were  power  and  solitude.  Let 
the  philosophical  reader  consider  what  these 
must  have  meant  to  men  naturally  of  like  souls 
to  ours,  and  he  may  come  to  a  better  under 
standing  of  Henry  Selden  and  Robert  Under 
wood.  He  can  understand  neither  of  them 
unless  he  remembers  that  The  Cedars  and  Hill 
Top  were  seats  of  nearly  absolute  power,  and 
that  hardly  the  castles  of  mediaeval  Germany 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    129 

were  remoter  from  the  vast  surges  of  modern  life 
than  those  two  plantation  homes.  To  be  pow 
erful  and  yet  much  alone  was  the  lot  in  life 
that  fell  to  the  sons  of  both  these  houses. 
Neither  in  his  youth  had  ever  been  beaten  upon 
and  rounded  to  conformity  by  any  constant 
contact  and  attrition  of  his  fellows,  or  ever 
brought  to  feel  himself  engulfed  in  any  swirling, 
streaming  sea  of  human  joys  and  pains  and 
strifes  such  as  we  all  must  feel  about  as  now. 

But  if  to  one  that  heritage  of  mastery  and 
solitude  had  been  a  discipline  in  gentleness,  and 
to  the  other  a  stamp  of  separateness  from  his 
kind,  it  was  not  wholly  because  the  two  were 
born  unlike  —  the  one  to  loving  and  the  other  to 
hating.  No  :  I  have  seen  too  much  of  human 
living  and  dying,  under  too  many  skies,  to  hold 
that  explanation  of  these  two  lives  sufficient. 
What  had  turned  these  two  men,  born  to  the 
same  outward  circumstance,  into  two  so  different 
ways  of  facing  life  was,  I  am  persuaded,  an 
inequality  of  fortune,  —  nothing  less,  in  truth, 
than  the  very  greatest  of  all  inequalities  of 
fortune  in  this  world ;  greater,  by  far,  than  if 


130    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

one  had  been  born  to  poverty,  or  halt,  or  blind, 
or  deaf;  greater,  even,  than  if  either  had  been 
born  without  that  gift,  compact  of  many, 
which  we  rightly  set  above  all  other  birth-gifts, 
calling  it  simply  "birth."  In  these  things  they 
were  equals.  But  when  they  two  had  first 
looked  forth  on  life  with  all  that  wondering 
expectancy  which  youth  has,  and  only  love  or 
genius  keeps,  life  had  made  to  both  the  same 
great  challenge  —  to  both  had  beckoned  with 
the  selfsame  woman's  hand.  And  one  had 
seen,  the  other  never  had  seen,  the  love-light  in 
her  eyes. 

Now,  how  men  bear  misfortune  is_,  no  doubt, 
the  best  test  of  their  nobleness  of  soul ;  and  I 
have  seen  in  my  time  many  men,  in  many 
causes,  overthrown.  But  with  all  there  is  in 
us  of  greed,  ambition,  purpose,  and  the  lesser 
hopes  in  life,  there  never  comes,  I  think,  to 
men  of  any  nobleness  whatsoever,  another 
overthrow  to  be  compared  to  that  which  one 
of  these  men  had  to  bear.  One  only:  for 
most  will  understand  how  Selden  could  win 
through  suffering  to  peace,  while  the  other 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    131 

could  not,  save  through  forgetfulness  or  by 
some  low  cajolery  of  his  heart.  Nay,  I  doubt 
not,  Selden  himself  could  reach  out  farther  — 
farther,  and  with  a  truer  understanding  than 
Eleanor's  or  any  woman's  quick  and  tearful 
pity  could  —  across  the  gulf  between  him  and 
his  enemy. 

That  these  two  should  come  at  last  to  try 
to  untwist  the  tangle  of  their  lives  on  the 
stage  where  the  young  Republic  was  grappling 
with  the  monster  she  had  reared  on  her  own 
breast  was  to  both,  no  doubt,  as  if  fate  threw 
together  its  big  and  little  perplexities.  Old 
statesmen  who  had  given  all  their  years  to  com 
promise  were  passing  from  the  scene,  their  hands 
thrown  up  in  warning  and  despair.  Reckless 
politicians  were  crowding  eagerly  to  the  front, 
ignorant  of  the  great  forces  that  should  soon 
sweep  them  away,  with  their  petty  devices,  to 
make  room  for  the  unmarked  men,  the  true  pro 
tagonists  of  the  coming  struggle,  now  silently 
gathering  their  strength  and  girding  their  loins. 
Yet  these  two  were  strangely  unmindful  of  all 
that  stir  and  expectancy  about  them. 


132    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

The  aged  senator  from  South  Carolina,  who, 
as  it  happened,  was  the  chairman  of  the  com 
mittee  which  should  sit  upon  the  matter  which 
had  brought  Selden  to  Washington,  was  now 
very  near  the  end  of  his  great  career,  and 
by  far  the  most  picturesque  figure  of  all  those 
about  to  quit  the  scene.  Absorbed  in  the  fate 
ful  issues  of  the  time,  and  seeing  with  mourn 
fully  prophetic  vision  the  dangers  threatening 
the  very  life  of  the  Republic,  the  old  man 
found  it  hard  to  take  thought  of  lesser  things. 
But  many  years  before,  he  and  Senator  Under 
wood  had  been  friends,  and  it  was  by  reason 
of  this  circumstance  that  Selden,  notwithstand 
ing  the  hurry  of  the  closing  days  of  the  ses 
sion,  had  been  able  to  obtain  an  audience 
for  himself  and  Eleanor.  Robert  had  been 
heard  already,  and  so  had  the  spokesman  of 
the  Indians. 

When  Eleanor  and  Selden  entered  the  com 
mittee  room,  the  members  were  awaiting  the 
chairman,  and  when  he  came  they  all  rose  until 
he  should  be  seated.  His  step  was  feeble,  but 
as  he  threw  aside  his  cloak  and  turned  his 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    133 

gray  eyes  on  the  company  with  a  quick,  im 
perious  scrutiny,  there  was  nothing  to  suggest 
that  his  bodily  weakness  had  dimmed  his 
mental  acuteness. 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  said,  with  the  swift,  husky 
utterance  that  had  grown  characteristic,  "  I 
am  somewhat  unwell,  and  should  be  glad  to 
get  our  business  finished  as  quickly  as  possible. 
I  understand  that  we  are  agreed  on  accepting 
the  bill  as  it  comes  to  us  from  the  House, 
except  for  their  rejection  of  the  appropriation 
for  the  heirs  of  Pushmataha,  indemnifying 
them  for  the  loss  of  certain  lands  previous  to 
the  final  treaty/1 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  a  senator ;  "  and  Mr. 
Selden  is  here  to  be  heard  in  opposition  to 
the  appropriation/* 

The  chairman  turned  to  Selden. 

"I  appear,  sir,"  said  Selden,  "more  partic 
ularly  in  opposition  to  the  language  of  the 
clause,  and  the  grounds  on  which  the  appro 
priation  is  demanded.  They  impute  fraud  and 
dishonor  to  an  eminent  public  servant,  at  one 
time  commissioner  in  residence  among  the 


134    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

Southern  tribes,  and  at  the  time  of  his  death 
a  member  of  the  Senate." 

"Yes,  Senator  Underwood."  The  chair 
man  looked  keenly  at  Selden.  "  And  youy  sir, 
wish  to  speak  for  him  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir.  But  there  is  another  who,  with 
better  right  than  mine,  claims  an  audience  of 
the  committee." 

Senator  Gates,  a  hard-faced,  large  man, 
broke  in. 

"We  have  heard  Mr.  Robert  Underwood, 
the  senator's  son." 

"  It  is  Senator  Underwood's  daughter  of 
whom  I  speak,"  said  Selden. 

The  chairman  turned  his  eyes  kindly  to 
Eleanor,  and  himself  rose  to  place  a  chair  for 
her. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "I  remember.  We  have 
promised  Miss  Underwood  a  hearing,  and  on 
my  part  it  shall  be  a  kindly  one.  I  knew  your 
father  many  years  ago,  my  dear  Miss  Under 
wood, — before  you  were  born,  perhaps.  Can 
you  tell  us  anything  of  this  matter  which  your 
brother  has  not  told  us  already  ?  " 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    135 

"  I  fear  I  can  tell  very  little  of  which  the 
committee  will  care  to  take  account,  sir.  I  was 
a  child  when  my  father  died." 

"You  have  no  record  of  his  bargain  with 
the  Indians  ? " 

"  No,  sir.  I  have  heard  that  the  record  was 
destroyed  when  the  office  at  Hill  Top  was 
burned.  But  I  remember  that  once,  just  be 
fore  my  father  left  us  for  the  last  time,  he 
spoke  to  me  of  the  bargain  and  of  Pushma- 
taha,  from  whom  he  bought  the  land." 

"  Tell  us  what  you  can  remember." 

"  He  had  taken  me  to  walk  with  him  in  the 
deer  park,  sir,  and  he  was  telling  me  of  the  time 
when  all  that  region  was  the  home  of  the 
Indians.  He  told  me  of  the  war  with  them,  and 
of  Tecumseh  and  Weatherford  and  Pushmataha. 
Then  he  pointed  out  a  tree,  the  tallest  on  the 
plantation,  and  said  that  he  had  once  slept 
beneath  it  by  the  side  of  Pushmataha,  and  that 
the  next  day  the  Choctaws  had  taken  up  arms 
against  the  Creeks  and  the  British.  He  and  the 
chief  had  afterwards  fought  side  by  side  in  some 
of  the  battles  that  followed,  and  in  one  of  them, 


136    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

he  said,  Pushmataha  had  saved  his  life.  Wan 
dering  bands  of  Choctaws  frequently  visited  Hill 
Top  while  I  was  a  child,  and  he  told  me  that  if 
I  should  ever  be  mistress  there  I  must  remem 
ber  his  friendship  with  the  chief,  and  show  all 
kindness  to  his  people.  He  said  he  was  going 
away,  and  might  not  return,  and  he  wished  me 
to  know  about  Pushmataha  before  he  left. 
That  is  all.  But  surely,  sir,  he  would  not 
have  spoken  so  to  me,  a  little  child,  concern 
ing  a  man  whom  he  had  wronged.  It  was  the 
very  day  before  he  was — before  he  died,  sir." 

"  You  never  saw  the  chief?  " 

"  No,  sir ;  I  was  an  infant  when  he  came 
to  Hill  Top  for  the  last  time.  But  I  know 
he  came  in  friendship  and  not  in  anger;  for 
this  was  his  gift/'  She  held  out  to  the  chair 
man  an  Indian  ornament  of  gold.  "He  gave 
it  to  my  mother,  and  she  hung  it  about  my 
neck." 

The  members  of  the  committee  examined 
the  trinket  curiously. 

"  I  think  you  do  well  to  cherish  it,"  said 
the  chairman  ;  "  but  it  is  not  such  evidence  as 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    139 

the  courts  of  law  would  be  likely  to  consider. 
Is  there  anything  else?" 

"  Nothing,  sir.  I  must  leave  the  rest  to 
Mr.  Selden,  who  knows  more  than  I  do  of  my 
father's  life."  She  turned  to  the  door,  and  the 
committee,  obeying  the  lead  of  the  chairman, 
rose.  But  impulsively  she  turned  back ;  and 
Selden  saw  in  her  eyes,  looking  up  into  the 
gaunt  face  of  the  aged  statesman,  the  same 
brave  look  which  he  had  first  seen  when  she 
came  down  the  stairway  that  night  at  The 
Cedars.  "  Oh,  sir,"  she  said,  "  you  will  be 
wise  enough  to  find  the  truth.  Much,  much 
suffering  has  come  of  this  charge  already,  and 
if  it  be  not  disproved  two  more  lives  will  be 
darkened  by  it.  I  am  told  that  you,  too,  have 
a  daughter  whom  you  tenderly  love.  Think 
how  she  might  have  to  suffer  if  in  the  years 
to  come  your  fame,  your  honor,  should  be 
blackened  by  such  a  charge  as  this.  You  will 
not  wish  to  believe  of  my  father  what  you 
would  not  have  her  believe  of  you  ? " 

She  was  speaking  to  one  who,  however 
bitterly  in  these  later  years  his  public  career 


140    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

has  been  criticised,  bore  a  name  so  spotless 
that  even  to  this  day  no  partisan  rancor  has 
ever  dared  to  cast  a  stain  upon  it.  But  the 
old  man's  head  was  bowed  for  a  moment 
before  he  spoke. 

"  No,  my  child/'  he  answered  mildly,  "  we 
who  have  ourselves  been  tried  and  tempted 
would  believe  no  more  of  evil  than  we  must." 

Eleanor  left  the  room  and  joined  Miss 
Joanna  and  Beverley,  who,  with  Burwell  and 
Virginius,  were  awaiting  her  in  another  part 
of  the  Capitol.  The  chairman  turned  to 
Selden. 

"  Can  you  throw  any  light  on  this  curious 
business,  Mr.  Selden  ?  " 

"  I  trust,  sir,  that  I  can.  It  was  only  to 
avert  this  wrong  to  a  good  man's  memory 
that  I  came  to  Washington.  But  if  I  am  to 
speak  more  freely  than  I  did  in  the  open 
House,  I  must  throw  myself  on  the  generos 
ity  of  the  committee,  for  I  shall  have  to 
speak  of  things  that  are  not  for  the  public 
ear,  and  what  I  shall  tell,  although  the  story 
is  of  a  time  long  past,  might  bring  humiliation 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    141 

upon  one  now  living  if  it  were  told  in  public." 
He  paused,  and  the  chairman  bowed. 

"  It  so  happened,  gentlemen,  that  in  my 
boyhood  and  youth  I  was  with  Senator  Under 
wood  much.  His  family  and  mine  had  lived 
on  neighboring  estates  in  Virginia,  and  when  my 
father  took  his  slaves  to  the  Black  Belt  and 
became  a  cotton  planter  he  did  so  at  Senator 
Underwood's  instance,  and  built  his  home 
near  Hill  Top.  For  some  years,  the  two  plan 
tations  were  like  outposts  of  civilization,  for  the 
lands  were  but  recently  cleared  of  the  Indians, 
and  most  of  the  white  population  was  made  up 
of  small  farmers  and  rough  pioneers.  The 
families  were  very  intimate,  and  Senator  Under 
wood  and  my  father  were  fast  friends  until  they 
were  estranged  by  politcial  differences. 

"  Touching  the  purchase  of  Senator  Under 
wood's  lands  from  Pushmataha,  I  can  speak 
with  assurance.  I  have  heard  them  speak 
of  it  together  in  language  of  friendly  remi 
niscence." 

"That  is  testimony  of  importance,"  said 
the  chairman. 


142    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

"  More  than  that,  sir,  I  was  a  guest  at 
Hill  Top  when  Pushmataha  made  the  visit 
of  which  Miss  Underwood  has  spoken.  The 
chief  had  set  out  on  his  famous  journey  to 
Washington,  and  had  come  by  Hill  Top  on 
his  way.  I  was  present  when  he  took  his  last 
leave  of  his  old  friend  and  comrade.  Grasping 
Senator  Underwood's  hand,  he  declared  that 
if  the  White  Father  at  Washington  should 
prove  to  be  such  a  man  and  such  a  friend  as 
the  white  brother  whom  he  had  seen  so  often 
tested,  then  he  would  know  that  Tecumseh  was 
wrong  when  he  said  that  friendship  with  white 
men  was  treason  to  red  men. 

"  As  you  know,  sir,  it  was  the  chiePs  last  jour 
ney.  Here  in  Washington,  he  fell  ill  and  died ; 
here  he  was  buried,  in  his  uniform  of  an  Amer 
ican  officer,  and  the  f  big  guns  *  were  fired 
over  his  grave.  Who  can  doubt  that  if  he  had 
lived  he  would  have  been  the  first  to  deny  this 
charge  of  fraud  and  deceit  against  the  man  who 
had  eaten  his  bread,  whose  bread  he  had  eaten,  — 
the  man  in  whose  friendship  he  had  died  ? " 

Gates's  harsh  voice  broke  in  again  :  — 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    143 

"  This  is  all  very  well,  Mr.  Selden,  but  is  it  not 
true  that  this  charge  was  made  in  some  form  only 
a  few  years  after  the  death  of  Pushmataha,  — 
and  before  Senator  Underwood's  death  ?  It  is 
also  true,  and  was  made  very  plain  to  this  com 
mittee,  that  to-day  the  Indians  entertain  for 
Mr.  Robert  Underwood  a  feeling  quite  differ 
ent  from  that  which  they  would  naturally  en 
tertain  for  the  son  of  their  great  war  chief's 
best  friend.  Now,  I  know  the  nature  of  these 
creatures.  They  do  not  forget  their  friends  or 
their  enemies.  If  my  recollection  is  correct, 
your  own  position  in  this  matter  is  very  differ 
ent  from  your  distinguished  father's.  I  under 
stand  that  he  advocated  the  claims  of  the 
redskins  somewhat  warmly  in  his  time ;  that 
in  fact  he  became  the  instrument  of  their 
revenge." 

There  was  no  member  of  the  committee  who 
did  not  know  what  Gates  had  in  mind.  All 
of  them  were  familiar  with  Governor  Selden's 
career.  Some  of  them  had  been  associated  with 
him  in  the  Senate.  Nevertheless,  wondering 
as  they  doubtless  did  at  the  stand  his  son  had 


i44    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

taken,  none  had  yet  thought  fit  to  speak  of  it. 
Selden  bowed  his  head  a  moment  in  thought, 
and  then,  lifting  his  eyes  to  the  chairman's,  he 
said  slowly :  — 

"  I  had  hoped,  sir,  that  I  might  escape  the 
mention  of  certain  painful  incidents  connected 
with  this  charge.  I  trust,  however,  that  what 
is  spoken  here  is  spoken  as  among  gentlemen." 

"  I  also  trust,"  said  the  chairman,  "  that  the 
members  of  the  committee  will  know  how  to 
guard  the  knowledge  which  may  come  to  them 
in  the  course  of  such  an  investigation." 

"  And  does  it  seem  to  you  necessary,  gentle 
men,  that  I  explain  why  the  Indians  brought 
this  charge,  and  the  unfortunate  share  my 
father  had  in  prosecuting  it  ? "  Selden  went  on. 

"  I  think  it  would  help  us  to  a  clearer  under 
standing  of  the  matter,  Mr.  Selden,"  said  the 
chairman. 

"  Then,  sir,  I  must  rely  on  the  honor  of 
the  committee. 

"  When  Pushmataha  came  to  Hill  Top  for  the 
last  time,  his  nephew  was  in  his  train.  The  eyes 
of  the  young  savage  fell  upon  a  fair  young  girl, 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH     145 

the  daughter  of  Senator  Underwood's  second 
wife,  and  he  carried  back  to  his  forest  home 
the  vision  of  her  grace  and  beauty.  He  grew 
to  manhood  with  her  image  in  his  soul,  and  a 
few  years  after  the  death  of  the  old  chief 
he  came  again  to  Hill  Top  with  the  simple 
thought  that  the  friend  of  his  people  would 
not  frown  upon  his  suit.  Senator  Underwood 
was  not  at  Hill  Top  when  he  came,  but  until 
the  young  man  made  known  his  errand  he  was 
hospitably  entertained.  Soon,  however,  finding 
an  opportunity,  he  revealed  his  passion  after  the 
wild  manner  of  his  race,  and  in  a  moment  the 
traditional  friendship  between  the  Indians  and 
the  family  at  Hill  Top  was  destroyed.  A  son 
of  the  house,  being  of  a  somewhat  impetuous 
and  haughty  nature,  thought  the  proposal  in 
sulting.  The  young  chief  died  by  his  hand." 

Gates  had  been  listening  intently. 

"  One  moment !  "  he  said.  "  This  '  son  of 
the  house '  ?  Senator  Underwood  had  but 
one  son,  I  believe." 

"  That  has  no  bearing  on  our  present  in 
quiry,  sir/'  said  Selden.  "  The  Indians,  mourn- 


146    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

ing  the  young  chief's  death,  and  bitterly 
resenting  the  contumely  he  and  his  followers 
had  endured,  then  for  the  first  time  brought 
forward  this  charge  against  Senator  Under 
wood.  By  an  evil  chance,  it  was  just  at  this 
time  also  that  certain  differences  on  public 
questions  had  strained  to  the  breaking  the 
long  friendship  between  Senator  Underwood 
and  my  father.  To  my  father  they  came  for 
redress.  He  took  up  their  cause.  The  re 
monstrances  of  Senator  Underwood,  himself 
ignorant  of  the  true  reason  for  the  attack,  were 
naturally  warm.  The  rest,  perhaps,  you  know. 
Senator  Underwood  atoned  with  his  life  for 
the  only  breach  of  hospitality  his  house  had 
ever  known." 

He  paused,  and  then  went  on  again,  speak 
ing  very  gently. 

"  There,  gentlemen,  my  story  ought  to  end. 
But  the  sad  business  did  not  end  there.  That 
deed  of  hasty  anger  at  Hill  Top  —  of  which  I 
myself  am  the  sole  living  witness  —  has  multi 
plied  its  evil  consequences.  In  my  father's 
house,  the  blight  fell  upon  my  mother,  who 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    147 

was  stretched  on  a  bed  of  pain.  The  shock 
of  learning  that  my  father  had  slain  his  life 
long  friend  in  violent  combat  caused  her 
death.  At  Hill  Top,  the  blight  fell  on 
the  young  girl  whose  innocent  beauty  had 
been  the  cause  of  all  that  happened.  By 
reason  of  the  estrangements  which  sprang 
from  this  quarrel,  her  life's  hope  was  de 
stroyed,  her  heart  was  broken ;  in  a  few 
short  years  she  sank  into  the  grave.  She 
who  pleaded  with  you  a  moment  since  is 
herself  the  marvellous  image  of  the  gentle 
ness  thus  rudely  crushed.  She  prays  you, 
gentlemen,  and  I,  too,  pray  you,  consider 
if  it  be  necessary  to  sacrifice  new  victims  to 
right  so  old  a  wrong.  We  pray  you  pause 
ere  you  transmit  to  another  generation  this 
legacy  of  suffering  and  hate." 

For  some  moments  no  one  spoke.  The 
chairman  suddenly  rose  to  his  feet. 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "  I  think  we  have 
heard  enough  to  enable  us  to  reach  a  con 
clusion." 

The  committee    quickly   rose,   and    all    but 


148    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

the  chairman  left  the  room.  The  old  man 
turned  kindly  to  Selden. 

"Mr.  Selden,"  he  said,  "we  are  much  in 
debted  to  you  for  the  light  you  have  thrown 
on  this  strange  business.  You  will  hear  of 
our  decision  at  once."  Selden  was  looking 
away  absently  ;  he  only  bowed  mechanically. 
But  suddenly  he  felt  the  chairman's  hand  on 
his  shoulder,  and  that  swift,  nervous  voice, 
grown  strangely  gentle,  was  whispering  in  his 
ear  :  "  I  think  it  is  not  the  dead,  my  friend,  but 
the  living,  who  have  suffered  most  from  these 
estrangements.  May  God  grant  some  atone 
ment  in  the  future." 

The  old  man  left  the  room,  but  Selden  did 
not  look  up.  He  was  standing,  as  he  so  often 
stood,  his  head  turned  aside,  his  eyes  on  the 
floor. 

Eager  voices  interrupted  his  revery.  It  was 
Burwell  and  little  Beverley,  come  to  see  if  the 
audience  was  over.  But  when  they  heard 
that  the  committee  would  at  once  report  to 
the  Senate,  they  hurried  away  to  hear  the  re 
port,  and  Selden  was  again  alone. 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    149 

But  not  for  long.  In  a  few  minutes,  Bur- 
well  came  back  again  to  say  that  the  old 
senator  from  South  Carolina  had  just  reported 
the  bill  back  to  the  Senate,  and  the  Senate  had 
passed  it,  just  as  it  came  from  the  House. 

"  Go  and  tell  the  children,  John,"  said  Sel- 
den.  And  when  Burwell  left  him,  his  eyes 
once  more  sought  the  floor.  "Thank  God," 
he  murmured  to  himself,  "  I  shall  not  have  to 
bear  the  pleading  of  that  child's  eyes  again. 
*  Atonement '  ?  What  atonement  could  the  old 
man  mean  ?  "  He  turned,  and  Eleanor,  her  face 
aglow  with  happiness,  her  hands  outstretched 
like  a  child's,  was  standing  in  the  doorway. 

"  You  have  heard  ?  "  he  said. 

She  came  to  him  and  impulsively  took  his 
hand  in  both  her  own. 

"  Yes,  they  have  told  me,"  she  said,  "  and 
I  have  come  to  thank  you  —  to  thank  you  for 
this  and  for  all  that  you  have  done  for  me. 
You  do  not  yet  know  what  you  have  done." 

"  Well,"  he  said,  smiling,  cc  I  seem  to  have 
brought  the  sunlight  back  into  your  eyes,  little 
Eleanor,  and  that  is  enough." 


150    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

"  And  may  I  not  hope  that  your  own  life 
will  be  brighter  for  your  descent  into  the 
world  ? " 

"  Perhaps  it  was  an  ascent,  after  all,"  he 
said. 

"Then  I  pray  that  you  may  climb  on  to 
happiness  —  to  happiness  such  as  you  have 
brought  to  me." 

Selden  turned  away.  His  face  was  flushed, 
his  eyes  strangely  brilliant. 

c  Atonement ' !  Could  the  old  man  have 
meant  —  ? 

But  Eleanor  went  on. 

"  I  could  not  tell  you  all  until  the  fear  of 
this  disgrace  had  passed  away ;  for  I,  too,  am 
proud,  and  —  and  —  it  was  not  for  my  hap 
piness  only  that  you  were  righting,  sir.  It 
was  for  mine,  and  Fitzhugh's  also." 

"For  Fitzhugh's?"  He  looked  back  at 
her  quickly,  but  he  did  not  yet  understand. 

"  I  promised  Fitzhugh  in  Virginia  that  I 
would  be  his  wife  if  our  na/ne  should  be 
saved  from  this  dishonor." 

For  an  instant  Selden  stared  into  vacancy ; 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    151 

then  the  brilliancy  passed  from  his  eyes,  the 
unwonted  color  from  his  cheeks.  He  re 
covered  himself  with  a  little  start,  like  one 
awaking  from  a  sleep. 

"  Back  to  my  turret ! "  he  said,  under 
his  breath,  and  the  slow  smile  came  back  into 
his  face.  "Why,  it's  like  a  story  in  a  story 
book  !  "  he  said  aloud.  "  And  I  never  guessed 
it."  He  took  her  hand.  "  Fitzhugh  is  worthy 
of  your  love,  little  Eleanor,  and  for  his  sake, 
no  less  than  yours,  I  am  glad  we  won  our  fight. 
And  to  think  that  he,  too,  had  a  personal 
interest  in  the  appropriation  bill  for  the  In 
dians  ! " 

And  now  the  others  entered,  and  with  them 
several  who  had  aided  him  and  Burwell. 
"  Why,  John,"  he  called  out  to  Burwell,  "  see 
what  a  simpleton  I  am.  Here  have  I  been 
winning  Fitzhugh  a  wife  from  an  appropriation 
committee,  and  I  didn't  know  it.  Well,  it's 
a  good  thing  I  shan't  have  to  pose  much 
longer  as  a  politician.  I  was  on  the  point 
of  forgetting  that  I  was  a  congressman."  And 
he  took  up  his  hat. 


152    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

But  Burwell  stopped   him. 

"  Henry,"  he  said  gravely,  "  don't  go  back 
to  the  House  to-day."  Selden  paused,  and 
looked  at  his  friend  inquiringly.  "  It  seems 
that  some  member  of  the  committee  —  Gates, 
I  suppose  —  has  been  talking  about  the  hear 
ing,  and"  —  he  glanced  at  Eleanor  —  "Mr. 
Robert  Underwood — " 

"What  of  Robert?"  said  Eleanor.  "He 
cannot  be  displeased  at  the  committee's  re 
port." 

"  He  is  incensed  at  something  Henry  told 
the  committee." 

Selden  laid  down  his  hat. 

"  Some  one  has  told  him  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  I  have  blundered,  after  all." 

Eleanor  looked  at  Selden  with  frightened 
eyes.  A  moment  more,  and  a  swift  step  was 
heard  in  the  corridor,  and  Underwood,  his 
face  seamed  with  anger,  his  eyes  aflame,  had 
entered  the  room.  He  stopped,  looked  slowly 
from  one  to  another  of  the  company,  and 
then  advanced  to  Selden. 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    153 

"  I  have  sought  you,  sir,  throughout  the 
Capitol/'  he  said.  "  It  is  needless  to  say  that 
I  come  to  thank  you  for  defending  my  father's 
honor — by  bringing  dishonor  upon  his  son." 

Selden  was  silent,  looking  down  upon  the 
floor. 

"  Your  confederate,  Gates,  has  revealed  the 
method  by  which  you  accomplished  your  pur 
pose,  and  it  has  spread  through  the  Capitol  that 
I  myself  could  long  ago  have  defeated  this 
bill  if  I  had  not  chosen  to  see  my  father 
branded  a  thief  rather  than  myself  discovered 
a  murderer ;  if  I  had  not  chosen  to  conceal  the 
boyish  folly  which  you  alone  could  reveal  at  the 
expense  of  my  father's  memory  —  my  father's 
memory,  which  but  for  the  slander  your  father 
was  the  first  to  take  up  would  have  needed  no 
defence." 

Selden  raised  his  head. 

"  Senator  Gates  is  not  my  confederate, 
Robert,  and  his  statement  is  a  disgraceful  viola 
tion  of  confidence." 

"  Nevertheless,  you  do  not  deny  its  truth, 
and  you  cannot  escape  the  responsibility  for 


154    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

your  own  act.  Our  score  is  a  long  one, 
Henry  Selden,  but  there  is  a  way  to  wipe  it 
out  at  once." 

Deliberately,  he  drew  a  heavy  glove  from 
his  breast  and  struck  Selden  across  the  face. 
Burwell  leaped  forward  angrily,  but  Selden 
waved  him  back.  He  was  pale  as  death,  but 
there  was  no  anger  in  his  eyes. 

"  No,  not  that  way,  Robert,"  he  said, 
quietly,  —  "  not  that  way." 


CHAPTER    VIII 


ARCH  in  the  Black  Belt! 
How  little  the  reader,  used,  per 
haps,  to  find  in  March  a  culmi 
nation  of  all  things  disagreeable 
in  winter,  with  no  alleviation 
of  spring,  can  fancy  what  March  in  the 
Black  Belt  is  like !  February  there  is  the 
month  of  promises  and  first  beginnings.  April 
and  May  partake  of  the  summer's  fierceness. 
March,  elsewhere  dreaded,  is  there  nothing 
more  or  less  than  spring  itself —  and  such  a 
spring  as  I  believe  no  other  region  knows. 

The  winter,  mild  in  reality,  has  been,  never 
theless,  tremendous  in  suggestion  by  reason  of 
the  abundant  life  it  stopped  in  forest  and  in 
field.  The  single  snowstorm  which  it  brought 


158    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

was  more  impressive  than  many  snows  where 
snows  are  common.  Now,  with  delirious 
swiftness,  flowers  and  leaves  and  warmth  re 
turn.  It  is  like  the  sudden  blooming  of  girlhood 
into  womanhood  —  another  transition  which  is 
likewise  marvellously  swift  in  that  same  region 
—  and  has  like  effects.  For  in  no  other  clime 
does  nature  at  this  season  take  men's  spirits 
with  so  lavish  a  caress.  Here  is  no  slow  ap 
proach,  no  shaded  cordiality,  no  cautious, 
spinster-like  advances ;  no,  nor  any  maiden 
coyness.  It  is  a  frank  beguilement,  an  utter 
and  outright  surrender.  It  is  the  very  Juliet 
of  springtides. 

And  soul  and  body  yield  to  that  impetuous 
blandishment.  It  is  a  time  of  lying  on  the 
hillsides,  when  "  righting  violets "  will  pass 
for  strenuous  occupation ;  a  time  of  forgetting 
duty,  work,  ambitions,  in  the  mere  languorous 
delight  of  breathing  that  soft  air,  of  gazing 
upward  to  those  mild,  blue-white  heavens. 
Above  all,  it  is  a  time  of  dreaming  love 
dreams,  of  planning  endless  happiness,  of 
speaking  in  low  tones,  of  infinite  trust  and 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    159 

infinite  tenderness.  Only,  now  and  then,  for 
an  hour  perhaps,  a  thunderstorm  breaks  in 
upon  the  dreaming. 

At  The  Cedars,  the  Christmas  party  was  re 
united,  and  all  the  shadows  that  had  darkened 
the  earlier  gathering  seemed  to  have  passed 
away.  Eleanor,  then  a  trembling  guest,  was 
now  taken  finally  into  the  lives  of  all  in  the 
household.  Even  Lewis  had  well-nigh  over 
come  his  forebodings.  Now  that  his  master 
had  passed  through  the  vaguely  dreaded 
ordeal,  what  was  there  to  fear  ? 

In  fact,  the  only  really  gloomy  face  that 
appeared  at  The  Cedars  was  the  face  of 
Virginius  Evins.  It  wore  a  look  of  per 
plexity  whenever  he  came,  and  he  was  actually 
growing  thin  and  pale.  One  bright  morning, 
as  he  came  riding  slowly  up  the  avenue,  Tena, 
who  watched  him  from  the  doorway,  broke 
into  comment  on  his  altered  state. 

"  Well,  ef  he  doan'  show  his  mis'ry !  "  she 
exclaimed.  "  Name  er  Gord,  huccome  he  doan' 
up  en1  tell  'er  'bout  it  ?  I  b'lieve  he'd  light  out 
en'  run  erway  ef  he  started  to  tell  'er  en'  she 


160    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

laughed  at  'im.  En'  now,  heah  he  come,  fo' 
dey  th'ough  eatin'  breakfus'  !  'Twix'  him 
an'  Marse  John  Burwell,  Miss  Bev'ley  doan' 
hardly  git  time  to  eat  en'  sleep." 

Virginius  rode  up  to  the  doorway,  gave  the 
bridle  to  a  little  darky,  and  heavily  mounted 
the  steps. 

"  Good  mornin',  Marse  'Ginius,"  said  Tena. 
"Jes'  hev'  a  seat,  sir.  Miss  Bev'ley  be  out 
toreckly.  Dey  ain'  quite  th'ough  breakfus' 
yit,  sir.  Dey  late  dis  mornin',  'cause  Marse 
Fitzhugh  come  home  las'  night,  en'  dey  set 
up  talkin'  tell  neah  'bout  twelve  o'clock." 

"  It's  not  Miss  Bev'ley  I  want  to  see  this 
mornin',"  said  Virginius.  "  It's  Mr.  Selden. 
Aunt  Tena,"  he  added,  in  a  lower  tone, "  is  — 
is  Gov'nor  Burwell  gone  home  yet  ?  " 

Tena  grinned. 

"  Naw,  sir ;  but  I  heah  tell  he  gwine  'way 
ter-morrow.  Miss  El'nor,  she  gwine  'way  ter- 
morrow,  too.  I  'speck  she  gwine  back  to  her 
cousins  in  Virginia,  sir,  to  git  ready  fer  de  wed- 
din'." 

"  Will     Miss    Joanna    an'     Miss    Bev'ley 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    161 

an'  Mr.  Selden  all  of  'em  go  up  to  the 
weddin'  ? " 

"Yes,  sir;  en'  I  heahed  Marse  Hinry  say 
he  gwine  on  to  Eurup'  after  dat,  sir.  You  see, 
sir,  Marse  Fitzhugh,  he  done  resign  his  place  in 
de  yarmy,  now  he  en'  Miss  El'nor  gwine  git 
married,  en'  both  uv  'em  comin'  back  heah  to 
De  Cedars  to  live.  I  'speck  he'll  hang  his 
swo'd  up  dyah  on  de  wall  den,  'longside  o' 
dem  two  swo'ds  er  ole  marster's." 

Virginius  glanced  up  at  the  swords. 

"  Why,"  he  exclaimed,  "  there's  a  picture  of 
ole  Gov'nor  Selden  !  I  never  saw  that  before." 

"Yes,  sir.  Marse  Fitzhugh  brung  it  wid 
him  f'um  New  York,  en'  dey  hung  it  up  dyah 
las'  night.  Hit  sut'ney  do  look  lak'  ole 
marster  —  dat  is,  lak'  he  use  to  look  after  ole 
mist'iss  died.  His  mouf  was  sot  jes'  lak'  dat, 
en'  he  'us  frownin'  mos'  all  de  time.  Dat's 
ole  mist'iss  on  de  lef  han'  side,  sir,  en  dis'n 
's  Miss  Marg'ret." 

Virginius  was  not  given  to  sentimental  re 
flections,  but  the  grim  visage  of  the  old  gov 
ernor,  established  thus  between  the  portraits 


162    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

of  his  wife  and  Margaret  Hilliard,  could  not 
fail  to  set  any  one  thinking  who  knew  the  story 
which  Selden  had  told  to  the  committee  in 
Washington ;  and  the  story,  excepting  Robert's 
part  in  it,  was  known  to  the  whole  Black 
Belt.  Even  Robert's  part  in  it  had  been 
vaguely  rumored  in  the  neighborhood  since 
the  Seldens'  return,  and  also  the  fact  of  Sel- 
den's  meeting  with  Robert,  and  Robert's 
challenge.  It  was  a  natural  association  of  ideas 
that  made  Virginius  ask,  when  he  turned  again 
to  Tena,  whether  Selden  had  any  idea  of  stand 
ing  for  another  term  in  Congress. 

"  I  doan'  know  'bout  dat,  sir,"  she  replied. 
"  I  heahed  Miss  Bev'ley  talkin'  to  Marse 
John  Burwell  'bout  dat  ve'y  thing,  sir,  en'  he 
say  dey's  some  trouble  'count  o'  fo'ks  sayin' 
Marse  Hinry  skeered  to  fight  Marse  Robert 
Underwood  up  dyah  in  Washin'ton.  But  he 
say  he  think  he  kin  git  de  convention  to  normer- 
nate  'im  ergin.  D'y'  ever  heah  sich  foolishness  ? 
Marse  Hinry  ain'  skeered  to  fight  nobody, 
but  when  ole  mist'iss  wus  dyin'  he  promust 
her  he  nuver  would  fight  nobody.  En'  'cose 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    163 

he  cyarn'  fight  Marse  Robert,  now  Miss  El'nor 
en'  our  Marse  Fitzhugh  done  made  up  to  git 
married." 

Further  discussion  of  the  matter  was  inter 
rupted  by  the  entrance  of  Selden  himself. 
He  was  dressed  for  riding.  When  he  saw 
Virginius,  he  told  him  that  Beverley  would 
be  out  directly ;  he  himself  had  left  the 
others  at  breakfast  in  order  to  ride  down 
to  the  lower  field  where  the  "  hands "  were 
at  work. 

Virginius  was  confused,  but  resolute. 

"  I  —  I  don't  want  to  see  Miss  Bev'ley,"  he 
said.  "  That  is,  I  want  to  see  you,  sir."  Where 
upon  Selden  asked  the  pleasure  of  his  company 
on  the  ride,  and  they  went  out,  leaving  Tena 
grinning. 

"  Dyah  now  !  "  she  said.  "  He  gwine  ax 
Marse  Hinry  fer  Miss  Bev'ley.  Better  fin'  out 
whut  she  think  'bout  it  fus'." 

The  grin  on  Tena's  face  was  only  broadened 
when  she  heard  the  voices  of  Eleanor  and  Fitz 
hugh,  and  turned  to  see  them  entering  the  hall  to 
gether.  But  Tena  did  not  wait.  Eleanor  and 


1 64    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

Fitzhugh  were  to  be  left  alone  whenever  they 
could  be. 

They  passed  through  the  hall  to  the  porch, 
and  looked  out  upon  the  morning  a  little  while 
in  silence. 

"And  to  think,"  said  the  young  man,  "that 
only  one  of  these  days  is  ours.  Thank  good 
ness,  there'll  be  no  general  orders  to  keep  me 
away  from  you  the  next  time  you  come  to  The 
Cedars." 

Eleanor's  dark  riding-habit,  as  she  leaned 
against  one  of  the  great  pillars  of  the  porch,  en 
hanced  the  frailty  of  her  figure  and  the  delicate 
pallor  of  her  face.  She  met  his  tender  gaze  a 
little  timidly. 

"  I  fear  I  shall  be  counted  a  poor  sort  of 
patriot  if  I  deprive  the  country  of  your  ser 
vices,"  she  said. 

"  Oh,  I'm  going  to  be  such  a  model  planter 
that  the  country  won't  lose  by  the  exchange. 
The  very  cedars  shall  cease  to  be  sombre  when 
we  come  back.  And  to  think,  dear,  that  we 
shall  be  together  always,  always  —  in  spite  of 
all  that  stood  between  us.  Dear  old  Henry ! 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    165 

It  was  he  who  gave  us  our  happiness.  It  was 
he  who  gave  us  to  each  other." 

"  And  he  himself —  shall  we  not  destroy  the 
calm  in  which  he  has  lived  so  many  years  ? 
But  then,  I  cannot  think  of  him  as  happy  after 
the  fashion  of  others.  He  seems  to  me  so  far 
above  other  men,  so  free  from  sin  and  weak 
ness,  that  he  cannot  even  feel  the  need  of  hap 
piness  like  ours.  Isn't  it  glorious  to  rule  one's 
passions  as  he  does  !  I  could  almost  have 
worshipped  him  that  day  in  Washington,  when 
Robert  came." 

"  I  think  I  have  worshipped  him  all  my 
life.  You  did  not  see  your  brother  after 
that  ? " 

"  No ;  but  I  know  he  is  at  Hill  Top  now, 
making  ready  to  sell  the  estate.  I  wrote  to 
him,  but  he  did  not  answer." 

Her  head  was  drooping.  He  stooped  and 
kissed  her  forehead,  and  then  cried  out  gayly 
that  it  was  time  for  their  ride  —  the  last  ride  he 
should  ever  have  with  Miss  Eleanor  Under 
wood.  She  went  slowly  upstairs  to  fetch  her 
hat,  and  he  to  the  stables  to  order  the  horses. 


i66    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

The  next  instalment  of  the  breakfast  party 
consisted  of  a  large  and  animated  gentleman, 
and  a  small  but  no  less  animated  young  lady. 
They  were  engaged  in  a  heated  debate.  The 
gentleman,  from  his  manner,  and  especially 
from  the  twinkle  in  his  eye,  had  evidently 
gained  a  strategic  advantage  over  his  adver 
sary  ;  but  she  showed  no  disposition  to  con 
cede  her  defeat. 

Burwell  was  speaking  with  mock  humility. 

"  Well,  it's  pretty  hard  on  a  man  who  has 
always  stood  for  purity  in  politics.  If  I  under 
stand  the  situation,  there's  no  way  to  make 
my  calling  and  election  sure  without  tamper 
ing  with  the  politics  of  this  district.  If  I 
heard  you  correctly  behind  that  rose-bush 
before  breakfast,  you  will  say  c  aye '  when  my 
name's  called  only  in  case  the  convention  at  Bel- 
view  said  caye'  yesterday  when  Major  Wat- 
kins  proposed  Henry's  name  for  Congress." 

"No,  I  didn't  say  that,"  said  Beverley. 
"  All  I  said  was,  that  I  wouldn't  talk  to  you 
about  it  again  until  you  made  the  convention 
nominate  Brubber." 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    167 

"And  do  you  not  see,  my  dear  Miss  Selden, 
that  you  are  asking  me  to  trifle  with  the  sover 
eign  electorate  of  this  district?  Henry  will 
never  accept  that  nomination  ;  he  will  be  abroad 
a  year  at  the  least." 

"  But  I  won't  have  it  look  as  if  he  couldn't 
stay  in  Congress  if  he  would  —  after  all  the 
mean  things  those  Ravenels  and  the  rest  of 
them  have  been  saying.  They  shall  nominate 
him  again." 

"cBy  the  eternal!'  Old  Hickory  himself 
couldn't  have  said  it  any  better.  Well,  I  can 
only  pray  that  they  have  done  your  will.  And 
really,  I  did  want  them  to  offer  it  to  him, 
without  regard  to  any  —  er  —  personal  con 
siderations." 

"  Then  suppose  we  forget  all  about  the  — 
er  —  personal  considerations.  I  shouldn't  like 
to  be  investigated  for  bribing  senators." 

Burwell  was  looking  down  the  avenue. 

"  I  ought  to  know  my  fate  pretty  soon ;  in 
fact,  I'm  expecting  the  major's  messenger  every 
minute.  The  convention  should  have  settled 
the  matter  last  night,  and  he  promised  to  send 


1 68    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

a  man  on  horseback  to  let  me  know.  I  can't 
stand  the  suspense  much  longer." 

The  confidence  in  his  eyes  belied  his  words ; 
but  Beverley  did  not  notice  it.  She  had  been 
listening  intently. 

"  I  hear  a  horse's  gallop  now,"  she  cried. 

Burwell  put  his  hand  to  his  heart. 

"  The  messenger !  And  my  fate  is  in  his 
message !  Ah,  suppose  I  have  failed  —  suppose 
the  major  and  I  have  failed,  Beverley.  Must  I 
wait  two  years  for  another  convention  ?  You 
know  you  don't  like  old  senators.  Why  not 
rebuke  the  convention,  and  say  c  aye '  even  if 
it  did  say  c  no  '  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that  would  be  trifling  with  the  sov 
ereign  electorate  of  the  district." 

A  negro  on  horseback  had  indeed  turned 
into  the  gateway,  and  now  came  slowly  up 
the  avenue,  his  horse  showing  signs  of  hard 
riding.  When  he  reached  the  steps  he  held  up 
a  note  to  Burwell,  who  seized  it,  made  as  if 
to  open  it,  and  then,  with  an  air  of  terri 
fied  indecision,  crushed  it  in  his  hand  and 
began  to  pace  up  and  down  the  porch. 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    169 

Beverley  tried  to  look  demure  and  patient, 
but  her  curiosity  and  her  real  concern  about 
the  nomination  were  too  much  for  her. 

"  Please  open  it,"  she  said. 

He  turned  upon  her  with  dramatic  gloom. 

"  No,"  he  said  solemnly,  "  let  us  make  our 
bargain  clear.  Let  me  at  least  know  that  I  have 
had  one  chance  of  happiness,  even  though  it 
fail  me.  Do  you  promise  to  say  c  aye  '  to  the 
question  I  shall  ask  you  if  the  convention  said 
f  aye  *  to  Henry's  name  ?  Will  you  obey  the 
voice  of  the  people?" 

She  looked  at  him  with  laughing  eyes,  but 
not  a  muscle  of  his  face  twitched,  and  she 
dropped  her  head. 

"  Do  you  promise  ?  "  he  said. 

"Well,  I  suppose  I'm  a  Whig.  Oh,  read  it, 
please." 

He  held  out  the  missive,  and  she  tore  it 
open  and  began  to  read  it  aloud. 

" c  Major  Watkins  presents  his  compliments 
to  Governor  Burwell,  and  begs  to  inform  him 
that  on  the  first  ballot  the  convention  renomi- 
nated  the  Honorable  Henry  Selden  for  Con- 


1 70    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

gress.'  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  !  But  what  is  this  he 
adds  ?  '  This  written  statement  of  the  fact  is 
sent  in  obedience  to  Governor  Harwell's  verbal 
request,  made  last  night  after  the  convention 
had  acted.  A  committee  will  wait  on  Mr. 
Selden  to  inform  him  of  his  nomination.' 
Why,  what  does  he  mean  by  your  c  verbal 
request '  ?  And  he  says  it  was  made  last  night, 
after  the  convention  had  acted." 

Governor  Burwell's  eyes  indicated  that  there 
was  a  grin  somewhere  beneath  his  beard.  He 
had  been  caught  in  his  own  little  trap,  and  when 
Beverley,  with  a  dawning  intelligence  of  his  per 
fidy,  asked  him  if  he  had  seen  Major  Watkins 
the  night  before,  he  promptly  admitted  that  it 
looked  as  if  he  had. 

"  But  he  was  in  Belview  at  the  convention." 

"  Yes." 

"  And  you  were  here  at  The  Cedars." 

"  Until  twelve  o'clock,  yes.  But  at  two- 
thirty  this  morning  I  very  rudely  interrupted  a 
little  game  of  cards  in  the  major's  apartments 
at  the  hotel  in  Belview." 

It  is  frequently  the  blunders  of  men   that 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    171 

save  them  with  the  other  sex  —  when  they 
know  how  to  follow  up  a  blunder  with  a  change 
of  tactics.  The  little  lady's  voice  grew  softer 
than  Burwell  had  ever  heard  it,  and  a  look 
came  into  her  eyes  that  she  had  never  let  him 
see  there  before. 

"Then  —  then  you  rode  all  night  to  see  if 
Brubber  was  nominated  ?  "  she  said.  But  the 
next  instant  her  eyes  were  bright  with  a  mock 
indignation.  "  Why,  you  knew  what  the  con 
vention  had  done  when  we  were  walking  be 
fore  breakfast.  I  don't  call  that  fair,  sir." 

Burwell  was  a  good  tactician. 

"  No,  it  wasn't  fair,"  he  said.  "  But  who 
would  not  load  the  dice  if  he  threw  for  his 
love  ?  Ah,  I  would  have  ridden  through  fire 
and  water  to  win  a  game  like  that.  And  have 
I  not  won  ?  Tell  me  —  tell  me  I  have  won." 

But  she  did  not  seem  to  hear  his  pleading. 
She  turned  and  went  into  the  hall,  walked 
slowly  to  the  stairs,  and  mounted  two  or 
three  steps,  and  she  was  not  looking  at  the 
governor  at  all.  He  followed  her,  and 
caught  her  hand  when  she  laid  it  on  the 


172    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

banister.  She  stopped,  but  she  did  not  yet 
look  at  him,  or  speak.  Slowly  he  raised  the 
little  hand  to  his  lips,  and  held  it  there  while 
he  waited. 

When  she  spoke,  her  voice  was  trembling. 
"You  —  won't  —  ask  me  —  to  love  you  — 
any  better  —  than  —  I  do  —  Brubber  ?  " 

"  I  will  be  content  with  whatever  measure 
of  love  your  little  heart  vouchsafes  me, 
Beverley." 

A  moment  more  they  stood  thus.  Suddenly, 
she  snatched  away  her  hand,  turned,  laughing 
through  her  tears,  kissed  his  forehead,  darted 
up  the  stairs,  and  disappeared.  The  governor 
made  a  wild  effort  to  leap  over  the  banisters 
and  follow  her,  then  turned  and  began  to 
pace  the  floor,  his  eyes  fairly  dancing  with 
his  happiness. 

"  Old  Henry  must  know  it  as  soon  as  he 
comes  back ! "  he  cried,  and  seating  himself 
at  a  table  he  dashed  off  a  line  to  his  friend. 

While  he  wrote,  Fitzhugh  reentered  the 
hall. 

"  Aha  !  Captain,"  cried  the  governor,  "  you 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH  173 

shan't  be  the  only  man  riding  on  air  this 
morning.  We  shall  be  in  the  same  boat 
—  I  mean  on  the  same  horse." 

"  Sorry  for  the  horse,  Governor ;  but  I  don't 
understand.  Has  that  little  rascal —  " 

The  governor  nodded,  and  Fitzhugh  held 
out  his  hand. 

"  I  congratulate  you,  Governor,  with  all  my 
heart.  It  will  be  a  glorious  ride  for  us  all." 

Beverley  and  Eleanor  were  coming  down 
stairs.  Fitzhugh  looked  up  smilingly  at  his 
sister. 

"  Has  Governor  Burwell  told  you  ? "  she 
asked. 

"Oh,  yes,  he  has  told  me.  He  began  to 
brag  about  it  as  soon  as  I  came  in." 

"  I  was  just  determined  he  should  win  after 
all  those  horrid  stories  about  what  happened  in 
Washington." 

Fitzhugh  turned  in  some  bewilderment  to 
Burwell. 

"Why,  Governor,  has  somebody  been  slan 
dering  you  ? " 

Beverley,  too,  turned   upon    the   governor. 


174    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

"  Why,  you  haven't  been  telling  that,  have 
you  ?  I  meant  that  Brubber  had  won.  The 
convention  has  renominated  him  for  Con 
gress." 

But  Eleanor,  laughing,  came  to  Burwell's 
rescue. 

"Don't  look  so  penitent,  Governor  Bur- 
well,"  she  said.  "  Beverley  hasn't  kept  the 
secret  any  better  than  you  have." 

"  The  horses  are  waiting,"  said  Fitzhugh. 
"  I  think  a  gallop  is  the  only  way  for  us  to 
express  ourselves  this  morning."  And  they 
rode  forth  in  a  burst  of  merriment. 


CHAPTER    IX 


T  was  nearly  midday  before  any  of 
the  riding  party  returned.  Miss 
Joanna  had  driven  over  to  see 
Miss  Anne  Evins,  who  was  ail 
ing,  and  the  house  was  deserted, 
except  for  the  servants,  when  Selden  and  Vir- 
ginius  came  back  from  the  lower  field.  Before 
they  dismounted,  Selden  glanced  to  the  west 
ward  and  remarked  that  a  thunder  cloud  was 
gathering  in  that  quarter.  They  had  been  but 
a  few  moments  in  the  house  when  the  sky 
began  to  darken,  and  the  birds  to  fly  lower  in 
their  passages  from  cedar  to  cedar. 

Virginius  gave  little  heed  to  the  threatening 
storm.  The  boy's  face  was  dignified  with  a 
look  of  care  and  suffering,  and  Selden  spoke  to 

N  I77 


1 78    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

him  very  kindly  on  the  subject  they  had  been 
discussing  during  their  ride. 

"  I  promise  you,"  he  said,  "  that  when  the 
time  comes  it  shall  all  rest  with  Beverley  her 
self,  Virginius.  None  of  us  would  oppose  her 
choice  —  certainly  not  if  it  fell  on  you,  my  boy, 
But  she  is  scarcely  more  than  a  child  as  yet. 
She  is  only  eighteen,  and  you  yourself  are  only 
twenty.  It  will  be  several  years  before  either 
of  you  should  think  of  marriage." 

"Yes,  sir,  I  know,"  said  Virginius.  "But 
you  see,  sir,  she  won't  be  at  The  Cedars  all 
the  time  now.  Until  she  went  away  to  Vir 
ginia,  I  didn't  know  myself  how  I  felt  about 
her,  but  now,  if  I  thought  she  was  goin'  'way 
to  stay,  I  don't  b'lieve  I'd  care  'bout  huntin' 
or  anything  else.  I  know  I'm  clumsy  an'  red 
headed,  sir,  an'  how  I've  wasted  my  time,  but 
I  never  did  anything  mean  in  my  life.  I'm 
goin'  to  the  University  —  I've  made  up  my 
mind  about  that  —  an'  if  she'd  promise  to  wait 
for  me,  I  b'lieve  I  could  do  'most  anything  — 
I  b'lieve  I  could  learn  Latin,  Mr.  Selden." 

Selden  smiled. 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    179 

"  You  have  never  spoken  to  her  ?  " 
"  I've  tried  to,  sir.  That's  why  I  went  to 
Washin'ton.  Somehow,  I  had  a  notion 
'twould  be  easier  there.  But  I  never  did. 
I  b'lieve  she  knows,  though,  and  makes  fun 
of  me  jus'  to  keep  me  from  sayin'  what  I  want 
to  say.  I  always  meant  to  speak  to  you  about 
it  first,  sir,  anyhow." 

"  Well,  perhaps  there's  no  hurry.  Governor 
Burwell  has  never  spoken  to  me  about  her, 
and  your  fears  may  be  groundless."  He  laid 
his  gloves  on  the  table,  and  his  eyes  fell  on 
Burwell's  note.  "  Why,  this  is  for  me.  Will 
you  pardon  me  ? "  He  read  the  first  line, 
which  informed  him  of  his  renomination, 
and  a  slight  frown  came  over  his  forehead. 
"John  knows  I'm  going  abroad,"  he  said. 
But  when  he  read  that  Burwell  himself  had 
been  elected  to  "  a  place  infinitely  preferable  to 
the  presidency,"  he  raised  his  eyes  quickly 
to  Virginius,  who  was  gazing  moodily  out  of 
the  doorway  down  the  darkening  avenue,  and 
an  expression  of  pity  fell  from  his  lips.  He 
stood  for  a  moment  thoughtfully  fingering 


i8o    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

the  note.  Virginius  turned  and  renewed 
his  plea. 

"  Mr.  Selden,  I'm  'fraid  to  wait.  It'll  take 
me  at  least  fo'  years  to  get  through  the  Uni 
versity,  and  by  that  time  she'll  be  twenty-two. 
There'll  be  so  many  men  comin'  to  see  her 
in  fo'  years,  an'  ev'ry  blessed  one  of  'em  will 
be  in  love  with  her.  They'll  be  han'somer 
an'  smarter  than  I  am,  I  know  —  but  they 
won't  love  her  any  better,  sir.  Mayn't  I 
speak  to  her  now,  sir  ?  I  can't  tell  you  how 
I  feel,  but  I'd  rather  die  to-day  than  lose  her, 
Mr.  Selden." 

"  I  think  I  know  how  you  feel,  Virginius. 
I  believe  you  when  you  say  you  would  die  for 
her.  But  there  is  something  you  can  do  for 
her  sake  that  is  harder  than  dying." 

Virginius  was  frowning  down  upon  the  floor, 
and  absently  striking  his  boots  with  his  riding- 
whip. 

"  There  can't  be  anything  too  hard  for  me 
to  do  for  her,"  he  said. 

"  If  you  thought  that  her  happiness  required 
it,  could  you  go  out  of  her  life,  and  never  let 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    181 

her  know  how  you  have  loved  her  ?  Could 
you  love  her  well  enough  to  give  her  up  — 
forever  ? " 

The  boy  looked  up  quickly  into  Selden's 
eyes,  and  read  something  there  that  made  him 
turn  pale  and  tremble.  The  whip  fell  from 
his  hand. 

"  Give  her  up  ?  "  he  faltered.  "  Give  her 
up  —  forever  ?  " 

Selden's  voice  was  like  a  woman's,  and  his 
eyes  were  moist. 

"  Could  you  be  brave  enough  for  that  ? " 
he  said.  "  Men  die  for  many  things,  Virgin- 
ius ;  for  fame,  for  pride,  sometimes  for  hate. 
Dying  is  not  the  hardest  or  the  bravest  thing. 
If  our  little  Beverley  loved  another,  a  man 
worthy  of  her  love,  who  loved  her  truly  and 
faithfully,  could  you  bear,  for  her  sake,  to  see 
him  take  his  place  always  at  her  side,  —  to 
hide  your  own  love,  that  her  happiness  might 
not  be  marred  by  any  thought  of  the  anguish 
you  endured  ?  " 

The  boy  was  dazed. 

"I  —  I'd  rather  die,  Mr.  Selden,"  he  said. 


182    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

"  Yes,  but  that  would  not  be  for  her  sake, 
Virginius.  Think.  Could  you  not  go  on 
living  that  way  —  for  her  sake  —  until  at  last 
her  happiness  became  your  own  ?  Could  you 
not  do  this  —  for  little  Beverley  ?  " 

There  was  a  long  pause.  Selden,  leaning 
forward,  looked  pityingly  into  the  boy's  rough 
face,  now  white  with  anguish.  At  length,  it 
settled  into  the  lines  of  resolve.  Virginius 
raised  his  head. 

"Yes, sir,"  he  said,  "I  think  I  could  do  any 
thing  for  her." 

"  My  boy,  I  think  you  are  brave  and  good 
and  honest,  and  I  believe  that  suffering  will 
never  turn  to  bitterness  in  your  heart.  It  is 
hard  for  me  to  tell  you  what  I  have  learned 
from  this  note.  Beverley  has  chosen  another 
mate,  Virginius.  Your  love  for  her  must 
bear  the  supreme  test — the  test  of  renuncia 
tion.  AH  honorable  man  loves  her,  and  has 
won  her  love." 

Virginius  seemed    to  choke    for  a  moment. 

"  Gov'nor  Burwell  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  she  is  engaged  to  Governor  Burwell." 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    183 

For  a  moment  the  boy  gazed  straight  in  front 
of  him.  Then  he  turned  and  groped  for  his  hat, 
as  if  he  were  blinded.  Without,  the  cedars  were 
waving  in  the  wind ;  the  hall  was  grown  quite 
dark. 

Selden  stepped  quickly  across  to  Virginius 
and  laid  his  hand  on  his  arm. 

"  Stop,  Virginius,"  he  said.  "  Years  ago,  I 
had  to  bear  what  you  are  bearing  now.  Some 
times,  I  almost  think  that  love  is  only  sent  to 
chasten  us,  for  life  is  short,  and  death  must  come 
so  soon,  and  bitter — ah,  more  bitter  far  than 
death,  Virginius  —  is  love's  defeat.  And  yet, 
believe  me,  even  from  the  grave  of  a  buried 
love  a  good  and  noble  life  —  almost  a  happy 
life  —  may  grow,  if  one  has  loved  aright. 
Surely  you  will  not  harden  your  heart  against 
the  world  —  against  him  —  against  her.  She 
cannot  know  the  pain  you  bear.  If  she  should 
know,  think  how  her  eyes  would  fill  with 
tears  for  you  —  her  playmate." 

"  She  shan't  never  know,  sir,"  said  the  boy, 
huskily. 

"  Ah,    that   is    braver   than    dying !     Come 


1 84    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

with  me  to  Europe,  Virginius.  Let  us  seek 
in  other  lands,  in  strange  cities,  in  the  great 
world,  some  cure  for  the  hurts  which  we 
have  taken  here  in  the  Black  Belt." 

Virginius  was  moving  to  the  door. 

"Thankie,  Mr.  Selden,"  he  said.  "Til  go 
anywhere  to  keep  from  seein'  her,  sir.  Good- 
by,  sir." 

But  Selden  tried  to  detain  him. 

"  Stay  till  the  storm  has  passed.  The 
rain  will  come  in  a  moment.  Look  how 
dark  it  is." 

"  Thankie,  sir ;  but — they  might  come  back. 
Oh,  I  must  go  !  "  His  voice  broke  in  a  sob, 
and  he  rushed  .out. 

The  big,  slow  raindrops  had  begun  to  fall 
like  the  first  shots  on  the  skirmish  line  before  a 
battle.  An  instant  later,  there  was  a  flash  and  a 
tremendous  crack  and  roar  of  thunder,  and  then 
Selden  could  hear  the  hoof-beats  of  the  boy's 
horse  galloping  madly  away. 

The  storm  grew  every  moment  fiercer.  Sel 
den  stood  in  the  doorway  gazing  into  it,  his  own 
face  drawn  with  pain ;  for  it  had  been  a  trying 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    185 

scene.  When  he  came  back  into  the  hall,  he 
dropped  wearily  into  a  chair. 

"  Yes,"  he  said  to  himself,  "the  boy  shall  come 
with  me  to  Europe.  If  we  do  not  find  happi 
ness  there,  we  shall  know,  at  least,  that  we  have 
left  it  behind  us  here.  For  surely  the  curse 
has  passed  away  from  this  house  at  last." 

But  the  swelling  uproar  without  bred  in  him 
an  unwonted  restlessness.  He  rose  and  paced 
the  floor.  Not  one  of  all  the  eyes  at  The  Cedars, 
lovingly  as  they  had  followed  him  to  note  if  any 
change  had  been  wrought  in  him  by  absence  and 
by  the  ordeal  at  Washington,  had  found  any  sign 
of  a  departure  from  the  settled  calm  in  which  he 
had  lived  before  Eleanor  came.  Miss  Joanna, 
who  had  never  quite  yielded  to  the  contention 
of  Governor  Burwell  that  some  immersion  in 
great  affairs  would  bring  forgetfulness  and 
new  interests,  had  indeed  rejoiced  to  find  no 
change;  for  she  had  known  better  than  Bur- 
well  or  any  other  the  beauty  and  sweetness 
of  his  life  at  The  Cedars.  The  simplicity 
and  tranquillity  of  her  own  nature  had  enabled 
her  to  find  in  his  acceptance  of  peace  a 


1 86    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

thing  satisfactory  and  right,  while  the  others 
had  longed  to  see  his  exceptional  endow 
ments  exercised  in  such  strivings  as  the  world 
is  wont  to  watch  and  to  applaud.  For  her,  it 
was  enough  that  every  slave  on  the  plantation 
loved  him;  that  the  neighbors  honored  him, 
though  they  wondered  at  him ;  that  Beverley 
and  Fitzhugh  idolized  him.  Lewis,  too,  was 
glad  that  his  master  had  not  changed.  Bur- 
well  and  little  Beverley  felt  themselves  de 
feated,  and  accepted  their  defeat.  No  one  — 
not  even  Eleanor,  who  had  the  best  reason 
—  perceived  how  deeply  he  had  been  stirred. 
Nevertheless,  if  any  of  those  who  loved  him 
had  seen  his  face  at  this  moment,  they  would 
have  trembled.  There  are  natures,  easily  stirred, 
which  respond  with  dramatic  distinctness  to 
every  provocation,  whether  it  be  to  love  or 
anger  or  generosity  or  grief,  and  then  as  swiftly 
resume  their  ordinary  state.  Each  several  out 
ward  incident  is  reflected  in  its  corresponding 
deed  or  word.  The  response  is  immediate,  ap 
propriate,  logical.  Other  and  rarer  natures  there 
are,  however,  on  which  the  outer  forces  act  not 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    187 

severally,  but  all  together;  not  immediately,  but 
with  cumulative  effect.  Countless  slight  vexa 
tions,  like  the  itching  shirt  of  Ulysses,  wear 
away  the  will's  resistance.  Slow-gathered  waters 
fill  to  the  full  the  reservoir  of  passion.  When 
such  a  nature  breaks  the  bounds  it  sets  itself,  the 
effect  is  like  a  tidal  wave,  heaved  up  by  forces 
distant  and  unseen,  sweeping  out  of  a  calm 
ocean  upon  peaceful  shores. 

I  think  that  there  had  always  been  such  tides 
in  Selden,  but  hitherto  he  had  curbed  and  ruled 
them.  How  strong  they  were,  he  alone  could 
know.  To  foresee  them,  to  prepare  for  them, 
to  battle  with  them  silently  —  this,  I  think,  had 
been  his  cross,  his  consecration.  And  yet,  he 
knew  that  a  time  might  come  when  his  will 
would  break :  when  loyalty  to  his  oath,  his 
memories,  his  mystic  ideal  of  sacrifice  —  all 
would  fail  him ;  when  in  utter  rebellion  his 
curbed  spirit  would  tear  asunder  the  bonds 
which  he  had  worn  so  long  about  his  soul.  The 
coming  of  Eleanor,  the  hard  restraint  which 
he  had  put  upon  himself  at  Washington,  his 
neighbors*  coolness  since  the  rumors  of  what 


1 88    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

happened  there  had  spread  among  them,  the 
exquisite  pain  which  this  new  atmosphere  of 
love-making  at  The  Cedars  had  brought  to 
him,  and  now  the  sight  of  this  boy's  dumb, 
useless  agony  —  all  these  things  swelled  and 
ached  in  his  breast.  Acutely  sensitive  as  he 
was  to  every  aspect  and  appeal  of  nature,  the 
sudden  storm,  harshly  contradicting  the  sweet 
promise  of  the  morning,  echoed  his  spirits 
uprising  against  the  stupid  contrarieties  of  life. 
The  great  revolt  of  human  souls  possessed 
him.  His  steps  grew  swift,  irregular.  His 
hands  opened  and  closed  spasmodically.  Lines 
of  pain  formed  about  his  lips.  The  gray  eyes 
glowed  with  a  mysterious  light  of  anger. 

Had  the  spirit  of  his  dead  love  been  watch 
ing  over  him,  surely  she  would  have  brought 
before  him  some  figure  of  suffering ;  for  in 
such  a  mood  a  prayer,  a  cry  for  help,  would 
have  availed  the  most  to  save  him.  But  now 
—  his  guardian  angel  had  fled  into  the  storm. 
There  was  the  wild  clatter  of  a  horse's  gallop 
up  the  avenue.  He  turned  to  the  doorway, 
and  Robert  Underwood  crossed  the  threshold. 


CHAPTER   X 


NDERWOOD'S  clothing  was 
drenched  and  disarranged.  His 
eyes  were  bloodshot,  but  not 
from  drink.  The  two  men  stared 
at  each  other  in  silence;  and  in 
the  eyes  of  both  there  was  a  deep,  unspeakable 
appeal.  The  storm  was  by  this  time  at  its 
fiercest,  and  in  the  darkened  hall  only  a  sort 
of  twilight,  brightened  now  and  then  with 
lightning,  shone  upon  their  white  faces.  Selden 
stood  motionless  where  he  had  stopped  in  his 
walk.  When  at  last  he  spoke,  his  voice  was 
altogether  strange. 

"  You     have    come     again,    Robert  ? "    he 
almost   whispered. 

Underwood  slowly  entered  the  hall. 
191 


i92    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

"Yes,  I  have  come  again  —  to  thank  you 
for  this  new  honor  you  have  done  me.  Surely 
I  was  expected.  Are  not  our  houses  to  be 
united  ?  Is  there  not  a  new  bond  twisted 
for  us  ?  Has  not  love  come  back  into  the 
lists,  and  overthrown  death,  and  restored  the 
past?" 

He  was  shaking  like  a  drunken  man,  but 
he  was  not  drunk. 

"  If  you  come  in  peace,  you  shall  not  miss 
a  welcome,  Robert." 

"  And  do  you  imagine  me  cur  enough  ever  to 
come  to  this  house  in  peace  ?  When  we  have 
lived  our  lives  over  again,  when  the  grave  has 
given  up  its  dead,  I  may  come  in  peace.  Is 
it  true  that  you  have  arranged  this  outrage  on 
decency  ?  Is  it  true  that  Eleanor  and  your 
brother  are  to  be  married  ?  " 

"Yes,  it  is  true." 

"  Then  I  swear  it  shall  not  be  done  while  I 
live  —  by  all  that  has  come  between  you  and 
me,  between  yours  and  mine,  I  swear  it.  You 
shall  not  mix  our  blood  in  such  a  wedlock.  If 
it  must  be  mingled,  it  shall  not  be  that  way. 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    193 

Once  more,  I  ask  you  if  you  have  manhood 
enough  to  fight." 

"  You  know  I  cannot  if  I  would." 

"Cannot?     Why?" 

"  Because  of  the  ruin  passion  has  already 
made  of  lives  that  were  dearer  to  me  than  my 
own,  Robert,  —  because  I  have  sworn  to  darken 
no  other  life  as  mine  was  darkened.  Across 
the  graves  of  the  helpless  victims  of  our 
fathers'  sin  I  would  not  draw  the  sword  again 
though  the  devil  himself  were  my  opponent. 
Is  it  not  enough  that  your  father  and  my 
gentle  mother  were  sacrificed  to  the  false  honor 
you  profess  ?  Is  it  not  enough  that  the  shadow 
of  sin  and  death  has  hovered  over  the  lives  of 
these  children  from  their  cradles  ?  " 

"You  will  not  fight?" 

"  No,  I  will  not." 

"  Then  the  boy  shall  fight  for  himself." 

"  Robert !  "  Selden  moved  a  step  forward, 
and  his  pale  face  came  more  into  the  light. 
"  You  would  drag  him  from  her  side  ?  You 
would  kill  this  happiness  of  theirs  ?  You 
would  break  another  heart  like  —  Margaret's  ? 


194    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

In  the  name  of  God,  what  have  these  two 
done  that  they  also  must  pay  the  penalty  of 
that  ancient  sin?  " 

Surely,  the  devil  himself  was  prompting  Un 
derwood. 

" c  Unto  the  third  and  fourth  generation/  " 
he  said.  "  Runs  it  not  so  ?  " 

"  If  I  know  the  boy's  heart,  he  will  not 
fight  with  you." 

"  Then  let  him  go  and  live  in  some  country 
where  they  tolerate  a  coward,  for  I  swear  he 
shall  be  hounded  from  the  Black  Belt.  Old 
Leslie  Selden  shall  turn  in  his  grave  to  see 
it.  Slanderer  as  he  was,  at  least  he  stood 
ready  to  make  good  with  his  sword  the  lie  his 
lips  had  spoken." 

"  Robert !  "  Selden's  hand  was  gripping  a 
chair,  and  he  was  breathing  heavily,  like  a  man 
engaged  in  some  physical  wrestling. 

The  devil  in  Underwood  was  prompting 
him  the  shrewdest  way  to  his  devil's  end. 
The  swords  on  the  wall  caught  his  eye. 

"Ah,"  he  said,  "you  would  defend  his 
memory  ?  Then  take  down  yonder  swords  and 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    195 

defend  it  like  a  man.  Look !  He  watches 
from  the  canvas  to  see  how  valiantly  his  son 
maintains  the  honor  of  his  family."  He 
turned  his  back  on  Selden  and  gazed  at  the 
portrait,  laughing  harshly.  "  What  do  you 
think  of  your  offspring,  sir?  Or  is  it  indeed 
your  blood  that  creeps  in  his  muddy  veins  ? " 
He  saw  the  portrait  of  Selden's  mother. 
"  But  perhaps  the  son  took  after  his  mother, 
and  sucked  his  cowardice  from  her  breast." 

"  Robert ! "  Selden's  voice  was  scarcely 
audible. 

Underwood's  eyes  moved  on  to  the  portrait 
of  Margaret. 

"  Ah,  another  witness  !  And  what  thinks 
she  of  her  chosen  knight  ?  A  parlor-knight, 
it  seems,  more  skilled  to  rob  a  woman  of  her 
honor  than  to  defend  his  own." 

But  Selden  did  not  speak. 

By  some  instinct,  Underwood  knew  that  his 
time  had  come.  His  wild  eyes  still  upon  the 
portrait,  which  seemed  to  shrink  away  before 
his  gaze,  and  feeling  surely  backward  and  down 
ward  into  the  inmost  heart  of  the  man  behind 


196    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

him,  he  broke  into  a  fury  of  speech  and  laugh 
ter.  A  frenzy  seized,  inspired  him.  Raving 
like  a  maniac,  and  with  all  a  maniacs  cunning, 
he  laughed  and  jeered  and  cursed  at  that  which 
was  most  sacred  to  them  both.  Words  which 
he  did  not  need  to  form  —  words  such  as 
neither  he  nor  Selden  had  ever  uttered  in  their 
lives  before  —  words  that  will  blacken  every 
fine,  sweet  thing  in  human  life  —  ribald  jokes, 
filthy  imputations  —  rushed  to  his  lips  and 
spattered  forth  upon  the  gentle,  pictured  face 
before  him.  Old  scenes,  bitter  to  him,  un 
speakably  dear  to  Selden,  sprang  back  to  life 
again,  distorted,  darkened,  and  befouled.  It 
was  as  if  he  had  dug  down  with  ghoulish 
hands  into  the  very  grave  of  their  dead  love, 
and  torn  the  coffin  open,  and  stripped  away  the 
shroud,  and  showed  the  horrid  feast  of  worms. 
Suddenly,  the  chains  burst  and  fell  away 
from  Selden's  soul.  A  brute  rage  lashed  in 
his  blood  ;  the  simple,  earthly  manhood  of  a 
thousand  lives,  lived  out  before  his  time, 
swept  over  him  and  tossed  aside  the  Christ- 
like  saintliness  of  his  one  life.  A  single  bound, 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    197 

and  he  had  taken  the  other's  throat  in  his 
hands,  stifled  his  speech,  crushed  him  down 
upon  his  knees. 

"  Margaret  shamed  by  my  love  !  Meet  me 
to-night  —  out  there  —  before  her  grave  —  and 
I  will  drive  yonder  sword  through  your  heart 
and  tear  your  vile  tongue  from  its  roots."  He 
lifted  Underwood  to  his  feet  and  hurled  him 
against  the  wall.  "  Out  of  my  sight,  or  by 
the  God  who  made  us  both,  and  twisted  the 
thread  of  your  dark  life  with  mine,  Til  kill 
you  where  you  stand  !  " 

Panting,  dazed,  exhausted,  Underwood 
leaned  against  the  wall.  Slowly  he  drew  him 
self  erect,  arranged  his  clothing  with  trembling 
hands,  and  moved  toward  the  door.  There 
he  paused  a  moment,  but  he  did  not  turn. 
Without  another  glance  at  Selden,  he  threw 
himself  upon  his  horse,  and  once  again  the 
clatter  of  a  headlong  gallop  sounded  through 
the  storm. 

For  many  minutes  Selden  stood  motionless 
where  Robert  had  left  him,  his  hand  gripping 
the  chair,  his  whole  frame  rigid,  his  eyes  staring 


198    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

into  vacancy.  Now  and  then,  he  muttered  to 
himself  mechanically  :  "  At  her  grave  !  At  her 
grave  !  "  and  slowly  nodded  his  head.  While 
he  still  stood  there,  the  storm  subsided. 
Eleanor  and  Fitzhugh  rode  up  to  the  steps 
and  dismounted. 

The  noise  aroused  him.  Instinctively,  he 
shrank  back  into  the  shadow  of  the  stairway, 
and  when  they  entered  they  did  not  see  him. 
They  were  both  drenched  with  rain,  and 
Eleanor  seemed  to  have  been  frightened  by 
the  storm,  for  Fitzhugh  was  tenderly  sup 
porting  her. 

"  Why,  there's  nobody  here  !  "  he  said.  "  I 
wonder  if  the  others  got  a  ducking,  too. 
Beverley  !  Henry  !  That  couldn't  have  been 
old  Henry  who  passed  us  at  the  bridge. 
Whoever  it  was,  he  was  going  at  the  king's 
own  pace,  and  laughing  like  a  madman. 
Plague  take  these  thunderstorms !  We'll 
abolish  'em,  dear,  when  we  come  back." 

But   Eleanor   was    chilled   and   shuddering. 

"  If  I  were  superstitious,"  she  said,  "  I  think 
I  should  be  frightened  by  these  sudden  changes 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    199 

from  bright  to  dark.  It  is  too  bad  our  glori 
ous  day  should  be  so  marred !  " 

"Ah,  but  it's  going  to  take  more  than  a 
change  of  weather  to  rob  us  of  our  happiness 
now,"  he  answered.  "  Think  of  all  that  once 
divided  us.  Why,  the  whole  past  rose  up  to 
part  us,  dear,  and  old  Henry  killed  the  past 
that  we  might  be  united.  Now  we  walk  into 
the  future,  side  by  side,  and  no  power  in  earth 
or  hell  shall  ever  tear  our  hearts  apart.  There 
shall  be  no  more  division  or  estrangement ; 
you  shall  not  even  dream  of  it.  For  us,  there 
shall  be  only  love  and  peace." 

He  put  his  arm  about  her,  and  they 
passed  slowly  up  the  stairway,  until  the  murmur 
of  their  voices  died  on  Selden's  ear. 

He  staggered  forth  from  his  hiding  like  a 
drunken  man  suddenly  restored  to  his  senses, 
but  not  to  his  strength,  by  some  violent 
physical  shock  or  the  revelation  of  some 
imminent  peril.  He  threw  his  hands  to  his 
head.  c  Peace?  Peace?'  And  had  he  not 
destroyed  the  peace  they  dreamed  of?  Had 
he  not  done  the  thing  against  which  his 


200    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

whole  life  had  protested  ?  Would  not  Robert's 
blood  or  his  come  in  between  them  ?  Would 
not  death  come  back  into  the  lists  and  drive 
out  love  again  ?  What  madness  had  possessed 
him  when  he  yielded  ?  "  How  could  I  ?  How 
could  I?"  he  almost  sobbed, — "with  the 
sight  of  their  happiness  in  my  eyes,  the  very 
perfume  of  their  fresh  young  love  in  my  nos 
trils  !  Weak  —  weak  as  the  merest  boy  who 
never  faced  temptation." 

In  an  agony  of  remorse,  he  dropped  on  his 
knees  before  the  portraits  and  prayed  to  those 
pictured  faces  for  forgiveness  of  the  sin  they 
had  looked  down  upon. 

The  storm  passed  as  swiftly  as  it  had 
come.  The  rain  broke  into  gusts,  and  swept 
away  in  misty  clouds.  Gradually,  and  then 
rapidly,  the  light  returned ;  a  little  while,  and 
the  sun  was  shining  as  brightly  as  ever.  Only 
a  slight  steaming  of  the  earth,  and  here  and 
there  a  raindrop,  bore  witness  to  the  inconse 
quent  day's  caprice.  A  mocking-bird  fluttered 
forth  from  the  heart  of  a  hedge,  mounted  to 
the  topmost  point  of  a  cedar  near  the  door, 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    201 

ruffled  his  feathers,  smoothed  them,  called  out 
once  or  twice  with  a  cheery  note,  then  flung 
himself  upward  and  sank  slowly  downward 
again,  filling  all  the  air  with  careless  ecstasy. 


CHAPTER    XI 


T  was  near  midnight  when  Bur- 
well,  followed  by  old  Lewis, 
emerged  from  a  wood  path  into 
a  little  moonlit  area,  halfway  be 
tween  the  great  house  and  the 
negro  quarters.  The  place  was  utterly  silent. 
Some  evenings,  its  stillness  would  be  invaded 
by  negro  voices  from  the  quarters,  raised  in 
plantation  melodies  or  quaintly  mournful  songs 
of  devotion ;  or,  if  there  had  been  no  revival 
for  some  months,  by  the  tinkling  of  a  banjo 
and  the  heavy  shuffling  of  feet.  But  negroes 
avoid  graveyards  after  nightfall.  For  miles 
around,  no  safer  rendezvous  could  have  been 
found. 

The  still  air,  heavy  with  the  languor  of  the 
205 


206    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

season,  was  laden  also  with  the  scent  of  the 
rich,  damp  earth,  and  with  the  ravishing  perfume 
of  a  night-blooming  jasmine.  Long  wisps  of 
gray  Spanish  moss,  hanging  motionless  from  the 
great  branches  of  the  white  oaks,  formed  a  sort 
of  curtain  on  all  four  sides  of  the  little  square. 
A  dogwood,  one  superb  mass  of  white,  loomed 
out  of  the  semi-darkness  on  the  side  next  the 
quarters.  It  was  a  night  for  tremulous  lovers 
to  grow  bold  in. 

There  were  not  many  graves  at  The  Cedars. 
Much  the  largest  was  a  stately  monument  com 
memorating  the  civil  and  military  services  of 
Governor  Selden,  the  founder  of  the  estate. 
Beside  him  lay  his  wife.  Opposite  these  two, 
Margaret  Hilliard  waited  for  Selden.  A  row 
of  humbler  gravestones  formed  a  third  side  of 
the  little  quadrangle :  on  these,  only  Christian 
names  were  written,  for  they  marked  the  rest 
ing-places  of  slaves.  On  the  side  next  the 
great  house  there  was  a  stone  bench  where 
Selden  often  sat  in  the  cool  of  the  afternoon. 
The  little  square  was  covered  with  white  sand 
from  the  neighboring  river.  In  the  moon- 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    207 

light,  the  inscriptions  on  the  gravestones 
were  distinctly  legible. 

Burwell  paused  before  the  monument  to 
Governor  Selden,  newly  erected  by  the  state, 
and  read  the  inscription.  When  he  turned, 
he  found  the  old  negro  at  his  elbow,  gazing 
awesomely  at  the  mysterious  writing  on  the 
marble.  In  Lewis's  face  there  was  once  more 
the  same  look  of  helpless  apprehension  it  had 
worn  when  he  awaited  Eleanor's  coming  on 
Christmas  eve. 

"  What  do  it  say,  Marse  John  ?  "  he  asked. 

Burwell  read  the  inscription  aloud :  — 

"LESLIE   SELDEN 

Born  in  Virginia 
A.D.  1785 

Died  at  Monterey  Mexico 
A.D.  1846 

Governor  Senator  General" 

Both  stood  for  a  moment  looking  at  the 
monument,  and  then,  with  a  common  thought, 
they  turned  to  the  graves  of  Selden's  mother 
and  of  Margaret  Hilliard.  It  was  as  if  the 


ao8    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

masterful  spirit  of  old  Governor  Selden  still 
ruled  in  this  quiet  place  of  death.  For  were 
not  these  graves  of  his  making  ?  Was  it  not 
because  of  him  — ? 

Obedient  to  Burwell's  gesture,  Lewis  started 
to  place  on  the  stone  bench  the  bundle  of 
small  swords  which  he  carried. 

"  Marse  Hinry  !  "  he  exclaimed  ;  and  both 
became  aware  for  the  first  time  of  Selden's 
presence. 

Doubtless,  he  had  been  sitting  there  for 
hours.  Burwell  had  not  seen  him  since  early 
in  the  evening.  He  did  not  rise,  but  motioned 
Burwell  to  come  and  sit  beside  him.  Lewis, 
laying  down  the  swords,  went  and  took  his 
stand  where  the  path  from  the  highway  led  into 
the  clearing.  It  was  that  way  Underwood 
might  be  expected  to  come. 

"  You  understand  what  I  wish  you  to  do, 
John?" 

Selden's  head  was  bowed  upon  his  hands. 
His  face  was  turned  away.  Burwell  could  not 
see  his  eyes. 

"  I  think  I  understand,  Henry.     I  shall  do 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    209 

everything  possible  for  a  peaceable  settlement, 
short  of  an  absolute  surrender  to  Robert's 
pride.  You  cannot  consent  to  break  off  the 
engagement.  I  do  not  believe  that  would  be 
possible,  in  any  event;  Fitzhugh  and  Miss 
Underwood  are  both  of  age.  Besides,  I  agree 
with  you  that  that  would  be  worse  for  the 
children  than  if  you  met  him." 

"Yes,"  said  Selden,  slowly,  "I  think  that 
would  be  worse  for  them  than  if  I  met  him. 
You  must  try  to  believe  —  I  think  you  will  be 
lieve,  John,  after  what  has  already  happened,  — 
that  there  is  no  humiliation  I  would  not  endure 
rather  than  fight  with  Robert.  I  could  spend 
the  rest  of  my  life  abroad.  But  the  children 
are  coming  back  to  live  at  The  Cedars,  and 
you  know  how  their  lives  here  would  be  dark 
ened  if  first  I,  and  then  Fitzhugh,  should 
decline  Robert's  challenge.  No  doubt,  this 
marriage  will  seem  a  strange  thing,  almost  an 
unnatural  thing  to  our  neighbors,  who  sympa 
thize  with  Robert's  feeling  in  the  matter.  My 
refusal  to  fight  at  Washington  has  turned  many 
of  them  against  us  already.  If,  after  accepting 


210    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

his  second  challenge,  I  should  again  shrink  from 
a  meeting,  and  then  Fitzhugh  also  should  refuse 
to  fight,  our  oldest  acquaintances  might  refuse  to 
recognize  us.  Robert  would  certainly  challenge 
Fitzhugh  —  he  told  me  he  would,  this  morning. 
I  do  not  believe  the  boy  would  prove  as  weak 
as  I  was,  but  life  at  The  Cedars  would  be  made 
unbearable  both  for  him  and  for  Eleanor." 

"  And  if  it  is  impossible  to  persuade  Robert 
to  give  up  his  purpose  ?  " 

"  I  have  sent  him  word  that  we  will  fight 
with  small  swords." 

He  kept  his  eyes  upon  the  ground.  Burwell 
tried  in  vain  to  read  his  face. 

"  Henry,"  he  said  at  last,  "  when  you  were 
a  boy  your  father  made  you  practice  with  foils 
as  well  as  pistols  every  morning  before  break 
fast.  I  have  seen  you  fence  with  Robert 
Underwood  at  the  University." 

Selden  did  not  speak. 

"  You  fence  far  better  than  he  does,  Henry." 

There  was  no  reply. 

cc  You  do  not  mean  to  kill  him,  Henry.  I 
know  you  don't." 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    211 

But  Selden  was  still  silent. 

"  For  God's  sake,  Henry,  remember  how 
dear  your  life  is  to  others,  if  not  to  yourself — 
to  Fitzhugh  —  to  little  Beverley.  I  ought 
not  to  speak  of  myself,  perhaps,  but  my  love 
is  older  than  theirs.  This  very  day  has 
brought  me  happiness  such  as  I  had  no  right 
to  dream  of,  but  the  night  would  make  me 
curse  the  day  if — if  I  were  to  stand  here 
helpless  and  see  you  killed."  Burwell's 
honest  voice  fairly  broke.  "  I  remember  that 
one  day,  when  we  were  little  fellows,  you 
tumbled  over  and  made  believe  you  were 
dead.  That  was  nearly  forty  years  ago, 
Henry,  but  I  believe  the  moment  while  I  was 
deceived  was  the  wretchedest  of  my  whole 
life." 

Selden  looked  at  his  friend,  but  quickly 
turned  his  eyes  away  again. 

"  I  have  not  forgotten  your  love,  John,  or 
the  children's ;  but  when  a  man  has  sinned  as  I 
have,  there  is  no  easy  way  of  atonement."  He 
paused,  and  went  on  more  calmly.  "  I  never 
thought  I  should  come  to  ask  such  a  service  as 


212    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

this  of  you,  John,  or  that  I  should  ever  shrink 
from  laying  my  heart  bare  to  your  gaze.  I  do 
not  care  deeply  for  other  men's  approval,  but 
to  you,  who  shared  the  wild  dreams  of  my 
boyhood,  the  fever  of  my  youth,  to  you  who 
alone  have  cared  to  follow  the  dull  course 
of  my  manhood  —  to  you,  John,  this  must 
seem  a  miserable  ending  of  it  all.  For  I  fear  it 
will  be  the  end,  even  if  I  escape  Robert's 
sword.  In  that  case,  if  Robert  will  not  give  up 
his  hatred  for  me  and  mine,  I  think  it  will  be  best 
for  me  to  go  abroad,  and  remain  until  he  dies, 
or  until  my  own  death  shall  set  me  free  to 
take  my  place  —  yonder."  He  pointed  to  the 
place  which  had  been  left  for  him.  "  It  will 
seem  a  poor,  spiritless  life,  John,  consecrated 
as  it  was  to  a  single  vow  —  and  that  unkept. 
Even  your  love  can  hardly  glorify  the  huddled 
figure,  bent  always  over  a  grave,  which  you  will 
see  whenever  you  think  of  me ;  for  I  myself 
have  rudely  broken  the  peace  of  the  one  grave 
I  guarded/'  Again  he  paused,  and  looked 
down  upon  the  ground,  his  head  turned  side- 
wise,  after  his  habit.  But  after  a  little  he  raised 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    213 

his  head  again  and  looked  upward  with  a  half- 
smile  on  his  lips.  "  And  yet,"  he  said,  "  if  I 
had  not  fallen  to-day,  if  I  had  lived  out  the 
tame  life  I  planned,  the  end  would  have  been 
to  me  a  more  precious  triumph  than  any  I 
dreamed  of  when  you  and  I  were  boys." 

But  Burwell  would  not  be  put  aside. 

"  Henry,  you  cannot  defend  yourself  all 
night  without  thrusting  back ;  and  if  he  killed 
you,  that  would  darken  the  lives  of  these 
children,  here  or  anywhere,  worse  than  if  you 
did  again  refuse  to  fight  with  him,  even  now. 
Sell  The  Cedars.  Let  them  find  another 
home.  Let  Underwood  say  and  do  whatever 
his  black  heart  may  prompt." 

"  Do  not  say  that,  John.  You  have  not 
seen  his  heart ;  and  I  —  I  think  I  have.  Do 
you  remember  him  as  a  child,  a  little  fellow  with 
big,  black  eyes,  wistful  and  proud  ?  This  morn 
ing,  when  I  was  crazed  with  anger,  and  held  his 
throat  in  my  hands,  I  looked  into  his  face  ;  and 
it  was  the  face  of  that  same  child,  —  bitter, 
enraged,  revengeful  —  but  also,  unspeakably 
wretched  and  forlorn.  It  seemed  to  me  I  saw 


214    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

his  whole  life,  John.  It  has  been  a  far,  far 
harder  life  to  live  than  mine  has  been.  If  it 
had  been  mine,  I  do  not  know  what  I  should 
have  made  of  it.  For  never,  never  once, — 
until  this  night,  —  has  Robert  had  his  heart's 
desire.  Please  don't  question  me  further,  John. 
Only  believe  that  I  can  find  no  better  way  than 
that  which  I  shall  take." 

Helpless,  in  silence,  Burwell  waited  until 
Lewis  made  a  sudden  movement. 

"  Dey  comin',  Marse  John,"  he  said ;  and 
with  one  glance  at  his  master  he  passed  with 
bowed  head  across  the  opening. 

Underwood,  followed  by  another  gentleman 
of  the  neighborhood,  strode  out  of  the  shadows 
from  the  side  nearest  the  highway.  At  the 
edge  of  the  enclosure  he  paused,  looked  across 
to  where  Selden  sat,  glanced  keenly  at  Bur- 
well,  and  motioned  his  friend  to  advance. 
Burwell  came  forward  to  meet  him,  and  the 
two  raised  their  hats.  Selden  did  not  rise. 

Underwood's  companion  was  a  recognized 
authority  on  all  questions  relating  to  the  duello. 
No  doubt,  his  fondness  for  "  affairs,"  rather 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    215 

than  any  close  friendship  with  Underwood,  was 
the  explanation  of  his  presence.  He  looked 
at  his  watch. 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "  I  trust  we  have  not 
kept  you  waiting.  I  did  not  receive  my  friend's 
summons  until  late  this  afternoon." 

"  No,  Mr.  Childers,"  said  the  governor,  "  I 
think  we  came  too  early." 

"  Well,  we  are  all  here  now,  I  believe," 
Childers  went  on  briskly.  "  Shall  we  proceed 
with  the  arrangements  ?  " 

"  Before  we  begin,  Mr.  Childers,"  said 
Burwell,  quietly,  "  there  is  a  provision  of  the 
code  which  you  and  I  ought  to  carry  out. 
This  affair  has  been  so  hurried  that  we,  the 
seconds,  have  had  no  opportunity  for  confer 
ence.  As  you  know,  however,  the  code  re 
quires  us  to  find  a  peaceful  way  out  of  the 
difficulty  if  we  can ;  and  I  think  we  ought  to 
discuss  the  matter  with  an  eye  to  that  pro 
vision." 

Childers  did  not  hesitate.  It  was  evident 
that  he  was  prepared  for  such  an  advance. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  he  said,  "  I  am  familiar  with  that 


2i6    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

provision  of  the  code,  and  have  already  con 
sulted  my  principal  in  reference  to  an  accom 
modation  of  his  differences  with  Mr.  Selden. 
My  principal,  however,  considers  himself  so 
deeply  wronged  that  I  can  find  no  basis  of  an 
accommodation  which  is  likely  to  prove  satis 
factory  both  to  him  and  to  Mr.  Selden.  In  case 
Mr.  Selden  should  decline,  on  any  grounds,  to 
proceed  with  this  interview,  I  am  instructed  to 
wait  on  Mr.  Fitzhugh  Selden  at  once." 

"  And  on  what  terms,"  said  Burwell,  "  will 
your  principal  forego  a  meeting  ?  " 

"  My  principal,  sir,  considers  that  he  has 
received  provocation  greater  than  any  that 
words  alone  could  convey.  He  holds  the  pro 
posed  marriage  between  a  member  of  his  family 
and  Mr.  Fitzhugh  Selden  to  be  not  merely  an 
insult  to  himself  but  an  outrage  on  the  memory 
of  his  father.  He  will  forego  a  meeting  only  on 
condition  that  the  engagement  be  broken  off  at 
once,  that  Mr.  Selden  tender  him  an  apology 
for  having  presumed  to  arrange  it  without  his 
consent,  and  that  Mr.  Fitzhugh  Selden  pledge 
himself  to  make  no  attempt  to  renew  it." 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    217 

Burwell  kept  his  temper. 

"  But  surely,  Mr.  Childers,  you,  as  his  sec 
ond,  do  not  countenance  such  a  demand  as 
this  ? " 

"  I  feel  myself  bound  by  the  instructions  of 
my  principal,  sir." 

"And  he  will  be  satisfied  with  nothing  short 
of  this  absolute  surrender  to  his  pride  ?  Have 
you  considered,  Mr.  Childers,  that  Mr.  Selden 
probably  could  not,  if  he  would,  prevent  this 
marriage  ? " 

"  Mr.  Underwood  will  accept  nothing  else, 
sir.  He  holds  that  the  proposed  marriage 
would  forever  dishonor  both  Miss  Underwood 
and  himself." 

Burwell  paused,  frowning,  and  glanced  across 
to  where  Underwood  stood  motionless,  his 
back  to  the  group.  He  felt  himself  helpless. 

"I  will  acquaint  my  principal  with  your  pro 
posal,"  he  said,  and  lifting  his  hat  he  returned  to 
Selden.  The  other  waited  in  silence  until,  after 
a  few  words  with  Selden,  he  came  forward 
again  and  announced  that  his  principal,  though 
willing  to  sacrifice  his  own  feelings  in  any  way 


2i8    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

to  avoid  a  meeting,  could  not  sacrifice  the 
happiness  of  others.  Being  the  challenged 
party,  he  had  named  small  swords.  Mr.  Un 
derwood's  representative  was  at  liberty  to 
choose  a  weapon. 

Childers  examined  the  swords  carefully. 

"  They  are  of  equal  length,"  he  said,  "  and 
apparently  of  the  same  temper." 

He  took  one,  and  retired  to  assist  Under 
wood  in  making  ready.  Burwell  touched  Sel- 
den  on  the  shoulder,  and  he  rose  mechanically, 
threw  off  his  coat,  took  the  weapon  which  Bur- 
well  offered  him,  and  slowly  advanced  to  meet 
his  antagonist.  Underwood's  eyes  searched  his 
face.  But  Selden,  on  his  part,  never  once  looked 
at  the  other  until  the  word  was  given. 

There  was  a  moment's  whispered  consulta 
tion  between  the  seconds,  and  then  Childers 
spoke : 

"  Gentlemen,  I  presume  you  are  both  familiar 
with  the  rules  governing  an  encounter  with  small 
swords  ? " 

Both  bowed. 

"  On  guard  !     Assault !  " 


CHAPTER    XII 


HE  mystery  of  all  human  souls' 
despair  hung  over  the  strange, 
moonlit  scene.  None  of  the 
three  who  looked  upon  it,  not 
even  Childers,  could  have  failed 
to  see  in  it  the  very  hand  of  fate.  Old  Lewis, 
hovering  on  the  edge  of  the  wood  with  open 
mouth  and  straining  eyes,  was  not  the  least 
alive  to  the  pity  of  it.  The  pure  moonlight, 
the  sweet  air  of  spring  —  all  nature,  in  that 
Southern  clime  and  that  charmed  season, — 
wooed  the  restless  spirit  to  gentleness  and  peace. 
Yet  here  was  the  world-old  story  of  love  breed 
ing  hate  ;  the  old  perversity  of  human  lives  ;  the 
old,  inexplicable  riddle  of  pain.  Here  were 
high  hopes  abandoned,  noble  purposes  unful- 


221 


222    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

filled.  Here  were  two  men,  of  gentle  birth, 
blessed  beyond  most  men  with  riches,  talents, 
promise  of  good  lives,  surrendered  to  the  im 
pulses  of  savages  and  brutes.  Underwood 
darted  at  his  adversary  as  a  famished  tiger  leaps 
for  his  prey.  The  sword-blades  clashed  and 
crossed  and  hissed  like  serpents.  Now  this  way 
and  now  that  the  two  men  turned  and  circled, 
advanced  and  retreated. 

Childers  quickly  perceived  that  Selden  was 
the  more  skilful  swordsman ;  he  saw,  too,  that 
Underwood's  eagerness  put  him  at  a  disadvan 
tage.  But  to  his  surprise  Selden,  though  occa 
sionally  he  feinted,  never  once  took  advantage 
of  an  opening.  Burwell,  thinking  that  he  had 
rightly  divined  his  friend's  purpose,  stamped 
the  earth  in  helpless  rage.  He  could  do  noth 
ing  but  await  the  end,  hoping  that  Underwood 
would  exhaust  himself  and  be  at  Selden's  mercy. 
But  the  end  came  more  quickly  than  he  thought, 
—  so  quickly,  indeed,  that  he  did  not  at  once 
perceive  how  it  had  come.  Suddenly,  from 
fighting  altogether  on  the  defensive,  Selden 
changed  to  an  attack.  There  was  a  swift  inter- 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    223 

change,  a  turn,  a  rush, 'a  stumble,  —  and  Selden 
was  on  his  knees  at  Underwood's  feet,  his 
weapon  lowered,  his  eyes  uplifted  to  the  other's 
face. 

Childers'  warning  was  not  needed.  Burwell 
did  indeed  start  wildly  forward,  but  before  he 
could  have  interfered  the  moment  had  passed. 

Only  SeMen  had  seen  Underwood's  face. 

"  Robert,"  he  said  firmly,  "  strike,  —  strike 
now.  We  must  end  this  quarrel  now." 

Underwood's  head  was  lowered.  His  face 
was  deeply  flushed.  He  was  breathing  heavily. 
He  did  not  move  or  speak.  Selden  threw  his 
sword  aside,  and  rose  to  his  feet.  Lewis,  who 
had  also  bounded  forward  with  a  cry  of  anguish 
when  he  saw  Selden  fall,  picked  up  the  weapon. 

"  Robert,  are  you  satisfied  ?  My  life  was 
yours,  and  you  give  it  back  to  me.  The  code 
you  follow  forbids  you  to  go  farther." 

But  Underwood  only  turned  to  Childers  and 
in  a  low  voice  asked  for  his  coat.  Childers 
brought  it  him,  and  he  put  it  on.  The  flush 
on  his  face  was  deeper  still.  His  eyes  were  on 
the  ground.  Selden  looked  at  Burwell,  and  he 


224    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

and  Childers  drew  back  and  left  them  standing 
together,  alone. 

Selden  spoke  again. 

"  Robert,  we  both  have  sinned ;  but  fate  is 
kinder  than  we  deserved.  I  cannot  ask  Eleanor 
and  Fitzhugh  to  give  up  their  hope  in  life,  their 
happiness,  their  love  —  to  live  as  you  and  I 
have  lived.  You  can,  if  you  will,  go  on  and 
darken  both  their  lives.  But  can  you  not  — 
will  you  not  —  give  up  your  hatred  ?  Will 
you  not  take  my  hand  ?  " 

But  Underwood  did  not  raise  his  eyes. 
Selden's  face  was  as  it  was  that  morning,  when 
he  talked  with  Virginius  in  the  hall. 

"  Robert,  you  and  I  have  that  in  common 
which  none  can  share  with  us.  To-night,  at 
last,  I  understand,  for  I  have  seen  the  whole  of 
both  our  lives,  and  from  the  bottom  of  my 
heart  I  honor  you  for  yours.  That  I  should 
fill  mine  with  a  sweet  and  happy  memory  was 
nothing.  But  you  —  you,  too,  have  been  stead 
fast,  scorning  in  agony  to  seek  forgetfulness, 
faithful  to  the  vision  of  that  which  life  denied 
you,  loyal  to  the  highest  in  your  own  heart. 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    225 

At  last,  I  know,  I  know.  And  I  am  shamed 
before  you,  Robert,  —  shamed  because  I  never 
once  made  my  way  to  you  —  across  your  anger, 
across  your  pride,  across  your  silent  pain, — 
and  begged  the  right  to  stand  beside  you  in  a 
harder  constancy  than  mine.  Am  I  too  late, 
Robert?  I  swear  to  you  that  I  desire  your 
love,  your  friendship,  as  I  desire  nothing  else 
in  that  remainder  of  my  life  which  you  permit 
me  to  go  on  to  live.  To-day,  not  in  generosity, 
but  in  anger  and  in  weakness,  I  gave  you  your 
heart's  desire.  Will  you  not,  —  out  of  your 
strength,  out  of  a  nobler  weakness  —  will  you 
not  give  me  mine  ? " 

If  Underwood  had  only  looked  into  his  eyes  ! 

"  Robert,  you  and  I  are  bound  together  in 
this  life ;  the  very  threads  of  our  lives  are 
twisted.  To  you  and  me  alike,  over  the  waves 
of  life,  there  came  one  vision.  We  both 
stretched  out  our  longing  arms  towards  it,  and 
it  swayed  towards  me,  stayed  a  moment  at  my 
side,  and  then  —  death,  like  a  refluent  wave, 
caught  it  and  bore  it  back,  away  from  me,  away 
from  you.  You  and  I,  alone  in  all  this  world, 
Q 


226    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

keep  in  our  hearts  the  same  white  memory. 
Robert,  take  my  hand.  Kneel  down  with  me 
—  here  —  before  her  grave,  as  though  we  were 
still  children,  and  let  us  beg  forgiveness  for  our 
common  sin  —  mine  worse,  far  worse  than 
yours,  Robert  —  our  sin  against  her,  against 
that  memory  we  both  have  guarded.  Will  you 
not  take  my  hand  ?  " 

If  Underwood  had  only  raised  his  eyes  and 
looked  into  the  eyes  of  the  man  who  was  fight 
ing  for  his  soul !  He  shook  like  an  aspen. 
An  inarticulate  sound  like  a  sob  tore  through 
him.  But  he  drew  backward,  away  from  the 
hand  outstretched  to  him  —  slowly,  step  by 
step,  until  a  little  space  divided  them. 

"  Satisfied  ? "  At  last  he  raised  his  head. 
Some  dread,  some  premonition,  made  the  others 
draw  nearer  when  for  the  first  time  they  heard 
his  voice.  "  Satisfied  ?  While  you  —  you 
triumph  over  me  again.  And  do  you  think 
that  I  —  I  also  —  do  not  understand  ?  It  was 
you  —  you  who  gave  me  my  life.  All  our  lives, 
you  have  been  the  victor,  I  the  vanquished. 
You  stole  from  me  the  first  place  in  my  father's 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    227 

heart  and  then,  —  and  then  you  tried  to  give  it 
back  to  me.  Eleanor  forsakes  me  and  cleaves 
to  you.  You  disgraced  me  at  Washington.  You 
drove  me  from  her  side  while  she  lived,  and 
you  —  you  will  lie  there  —  in  death  —  beside 
her.  And  now,  you  give  me  back  my  life  — 
the  life  you  blasted  from  the  very  beginning. 
The  meanest  of  your  slaves  would  scorn  me  if 
I  took  it  from  your  hands.  If  you  opened  the 
gates  of  heaven  for  me,  I  would  not  enter.  I 
will  not  take  your  gift.  I  will  not  take  your 
hand." 

He  had  moved  still  farther  away  while  he 
was  speaking.  Slowly,  his  hand  sought  his 
breast. 

Selden  was  the  first  to  divine  his  purpose, 
and  sprang  forward  to  save  him  from  self-slaugh 
ter.  But  the  movement  only  changed  his  pur 
pose  to  a  worse. 

"  Stop  ! "  he  cried  hoarsely,  his  eyes  blazing 
like  a  madman's,  a  terrible  smile  on  his  lips. 
"  Stop  !  Ah,  you  said  that  the  threads  of  our 
lives  are  twisted.  By  God,  they  shall  snap 
together ! " 


228    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

They  all  sprang  upon  him,  and  Lewis, 
thrusting  his  body  between  him  and  Selden, 
drove  the  sword  into  his  breast.  But  he  had 
fired  before  the  slave  could  reach  him.  The 
pistol  dropped  from  his  hand ;  he  fell  to  his 
knees. 

"Fool,"  he  said  to  Lewis,  "there  was  no 
need  to  interfere.  I  meant  to  die."  He  sank 
slowly  forward,  first  upon  his  hands,  then  down 
upon  his  face,  and  the  white  sand  was  crimsoned 
with  a  rush  of  blood  from  his  mouth. 

The  horror  of  the  deed  had  fascinated 
them.  They  all  stood  still  and  silent  until 
Selden  staggered  backward  and  steadied  him 
self  against  a  gravestone.  Burwell  and  Lewis 
ran  to  support  him.  He  looked  pityingly 
at  Lewis. 

"  He  only  meant  to  protect  me,  John," 
he  said.  "  Mr.  Childers  will  testify  in  his 
favor." 

"  Not  a  hair  of  his  head  shall  be  touched," 
Burwell  cried.  "  But  yourself,  Henry,  your 
self?  Are  you  hit?" 

"Is  he  hit  you,  Marse  Hinry?"     Lewis's 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    229 

tones  were  piteous.  "  Fer  Cord's  sake,  Marse 
Hinry,  is  he  hit  you  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  is  the  end,  John,"  said  Selden, 
quietly. 

"  But  here  —  here  !  Oh,  Henry,  you  must 
not  die  here!" 

"Yes,  here,"  he  said.  "Let  it  be  here. 
Against  these  who  lie  here  I  have  sinned." 

A  group  of  frightened  'house-servants  broke 
into  the  clearing.  A  moment  later,  Fitzhugh 
ran  out  of  the  wood,  and  after  him  Miss  Joanna 
and  Eleanor  and  Beverley.  They  all  paused, 
astonished  at  the  silence  and  at  the  motionless 
figures  in  the  little  square.  They  did  not  see 
where  Robert  lay ;  but  when  little  Beverley 
saw  that  Selden  did  not  rise,  and  how  pale 
he  was,  and  Burwell  tearing  the  clothing  from 
his  breast,  she  cried  out  "  Brubber ! "  and 
threw  herself  at  his  feet,  her  arms  clasping 
his  knees. 

He  laid  his  hand  on  her  head,  and  pushed 
back  her  hair,  and  kissed  her.  But  his  eyes 
passed  quickly  beyond  her. 

"  Eleanor  !    Fitzhugh  !  "  he  said.    "  Swear  to 


230    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

me  that  nothing  which  has  happened  to-night 
shall  ever  drive  you  apart." 

"  I  swear  it,  Henry,"  said  Fitzhugh,  and 
he  turned  to  Eleanor. 

Eleanor  grew  deathly  pale. 

"  Oh,  it  was  Robert,"  she  cried.  "I  know  it 
was  Robert!" 

But  Burwell  whispered  to  her. 

"  Swear,  girl,  swear.     He  is  dying !  " 

She  put  her  hand  over  her  eyes.  Selden 
looked  at  her  imploringly.  At  last,  she 
said: 

cc  I  will  not  leave  him  or  forsake  him,  until 
death  us  do  part." 

In  a  moment,  he  had  fainted.  They  stood 
about  him,  sobbing  and  trembling.  The  negroes 
from  the  quarters,  gathered  on  the  edge  of  the 
clearing,  were  breaking  into  long,  doleful  cries. 
Burwell  leaned  over  and  put  his  ear  to  Selden's 
heart. 

"  He  is  not  gone,"  he  cried.  "  Ride  for  Dr. 
Clayton,  some  of  you.  Hurry,  hurry !  "  and 
several  of  the  servants  dashed  down  the  path 
that  led  to  the  highway. 


A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH    231 

When  Selden  opened  his  eyes  again,  his 
mind  was  wandering.  Eleanor  was  standing 
directly  in  front  of  him,  the  moonlight  falling 
full  upon  her  pale  face  and  her  uncovered  head. 
He  stared  at  her  a  little  while  in  a  puzzled  way, 
and  then,  a  curiously  boyish  smile  came  into 
his  face  —  such  a  smile  as  none  had  seen  there 
for  many  years. 

"Is  it  you,  dear?"  he  said.  "Margaret! 
Meg ! " 

Burwell  was  the  first  to  understand. 

"Ah,  the  old  love  again,"  he  whispered; 
and  he  beckoned  the  trembling  girl  to 
advance. 

Selden   took  her  hand   in  his. 

"  Have  I  been  asleep  —  out  here  ?  "  he  said. 
"I  —  I  must  have  been  asleep,  for  I  have  had 
the  strangest  dream  !  I  dreamt  that  I  was 
almost  an  old  man,  and  that  you  —  that  you 
were  dead,  my  darling,  long,  long  ago.  And 
I  thought  that  little  Eleanor  had  grown  up 
to  be  a  woman,  tall  and  beautiful,  and  just 
like  you.  And  I  thought  —  yes  —  I  almost 
thought  —  that  I  —  loved  her."  He  was  still 


232    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  THE  SOUTH 

smiling  faintly,  and  striving  to  raise  her  hand 
to  his  lips.  "  Wasn't  it  a  strange  dream,  dear  ? 
But  it  was  —  it  was  — " 

He  loosed  her  hand.      His   head  drooped 
down  upon  his  breast. 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 

THE  LOWER  SOUTH   IN  AMERICAN 
HISTORY 

By  WILLIAM  QARROTT  BROWN 

Cloth.    i2mo.    $1.50,  net 


"Mr.  Brown,  a  native  of  Alabama,  a  graduate  of  Harvard  in 
1891,  possessing  an  agreeable  style,  a  keen  sense  of  historic  perspec 
tive,  and  an  admirable  gift  for  rendering  both  lucid  and  entertaining 
the  special  life  which  he  is  describing,  has  told  in  this  compact  but 
most  useful  volume  the  steps  by  which  the  cotton  culture  of  the 
South  suddenly  expanded  over  the  fertile  fields  of  the  cretaceous 
soil  which  spread  westward  from  Georgia  to  Texas.  .  .  .  There 
are  few  books  in  the  well-trodden  field  of  American  history  which 
demand  an  individual,  independent,  and  original  attention.  This 
is  one  of  them."  — Philadelphia  Press. 

'"The  Lower  South'  has  hitherto  been  a  neglected  section  in 
American  history.  Mr.  Brown  has  done  well  to  take  it  as  his 
special  field  of  investigation.  .  .  .  What  as  a  student  of  Ameri 
can  history  he  has  aimed  to  do  has  been  to  take  all  possible  pains 
to  understand  and  appreciate  the  ruling  spirit  and  motive  of  all 
sections  of  the  country.  As  a  true  artist  he  has  endeavored  to 
paint  to  the  life  —  without  malice  or  prejudice.  Wendell  Phillips, 
William  Lloyd  Garrison,  Whittier,  and  the  rest,  on  the  one  hand, 
and  the  brilliant  fire-eating  *  orator  of  Alabama,'  on  the  other,  are 
characterized  with  similar  fairness,  each  from  his  own  point  of 
view."  —  Chicago  Tribune. 

"  No  one  can  read  the  essays  which  make  up  '  The  Lower  South 
in  American  History,'  by  William  Garrott  Brown,  without  being 
most  profoundly  impressed  by  the  author's  sincerity  and  earnest 
ness.  To  his  task  of  depicting  history  he  has  brought  more  than 
mere  research;  he  has  walked  through  the  valley  of  the  Dry  Bones 
and  made  the  dry  bones  live.  The  papers  .  .  .  give  a  new  and 
valuable  insight  into  the  life  and  character  of  the  Southern  people, 
and  they  will  not  only  repay  the  reader,  but  will  cause  him  to  turn 
to  them  more  than  once  for  something  of  real  use  in  his  study  of 
the  South  of  to-day."  —  Boston  Transcript. 


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